Time
by cr8zymommy
Summary: Derek Morgan could count down to the very last second exactly how long it had been since Spencer Reid had gone missing...Warning, SLASH later, violence, sexual assault, all those hard topics
1. Chapter 1

Despite his best efforts, Morgan found himself looking at the clock once again. No matter how many times he told himself he wouldn't do it, that he'd concentrate on his work like he was supposed to, he still found himself looking up. Time and time again he looked at the clock, even though his brain seemed to already know the answer. Even without looking at the clock he thought that he would know the answer, down to the very last second.

The time was always in his thoughts; a constant counter running in the back of his mind. Every day he got up, showered, walked his dog, came to work, and did his job— everything that was normal. Yet the entire time, in the back of his mind, that counter was running. Constantly. A never ending litany that repeated over and over in his mind.

So even as he told himself he wouldn't look at the clock, he knew he would. How could he resist?

One year, six months, four days, fifteen minutes and…thirty seven seconds.

How could so much time have passed? How could a year have come and gone already? A year and a _half_! It ripped at his insides as it always did when he let those thoughts come to the forefront. The file in front of him blurred as the pain swept over him. He couldn't work. There was no way he could work like this. But he had to.

His eyes flashed up once again. One year, six months, sixteen minutes and three seconds.

The others worried about him. He knew that, but he couldn't change it. How could he? If they were honest, they all worried about one another. Because nothing was the same anymore. Nothing was right. How could any of them ever forget? They couldn't. Not when they were faced with that empty desk day after day.

At one point it had been suggested that the seating be rearranged, or the desk moved entirely. It was the one time that Morgan had seen their unit chief come close to actually blowing his top. After that, no one had tried to suggest it again.

Unwillingly Morgan found his eyes traveling over there. He couldn't help but wonder if it might have been better to get rid of that desk. Not let someone else there, no, never! But take it away so that it wouldn't remind them of that ever present pain. That fear.

But he knew that he would fight anyone who tried to take it away. That desk had to stay where it was. It just had to. Removing it would be like admitting that it was real. Admitting that the person was never going to come back.

None of them were ready for that.

One year, six months, eighteen minutes and forty five seconds since the last time they had all seen Dr. Spencer Reid. Since the happy go lucky, awkward little genius had gone home on his own, turning down a trip to the bar with his teammates. No one had seen him since then.

They'd gone to his apartment the next day on their lunch after Reid hadn't shown up for work. Morgan and JJ had been sent by Hotch to make sure their younger friend was all right. If only they'd had an idea. If only they'd forced Reid to go out with them the night before instead of letting their socially shy friend head to his apartment alone.

When they'd gone up to his front door, they'd found it open. That had been the first moment that Morgan had started to worry. Automatically he'd drawn his gun, feeling JJ do the same behind him. Then the two had worked together, moving into the apartment and clearing it room by room, same as they'd do at a crime scene. Reid had been nowhere to be found.

There'd been obvious signs of a struggle. Morgan could recall it all with perfect clarity. The end table by the couch had been knocked over, books strewn on the floor, two pictures shattered. JJ had called the team and soon the place had been swarming with crime scene personnel. Sure, they'd all been afraid, but they'd been confident, too. They would bring him home.

Then they found the message on the answering machine. A deep voice, distorted by something, yet no less eerie. _"My little pet, are you getting excited yet? Soon, so soon, we'll be together. You'll be mine. I'll take care of you like no one else. You'll be my little pet. Does that excite you? Are you waiting eagerly for me? Not much longer and I'll come for you. Soon, my pet. Soon."_

Their fear had grown stronger then. Even more so when Garcia got into Reid's personal email and pulled up emails that were similar to the recording. When Morgan had seen how long the kid had been getting those emails and Lord knew how many other phone calls or messages, he'd punched a hole in the wall. Three months. Reid had been receiving those for _three months_ and he hadn't told a soul!

Not that Morgan blamed him for it. He'd read each email that Garcia had printed. The man had threatened to hurt others if Reid ever told about the emails. He'd threatened, with details about _who_ he'd hurt and what he'd do to them. There was no quicker way past Reid's defenses than to pull up his protective instinct.

They'd hoped to trace those emails or the phone call, but Garcia hit a dead end each time. The café she traced the emails to didn't have anything on surveillance but the image of a man, around six foot two, stocky build, bald head, tanned skin. Even then it was only of the back of him, as if the man had known to keep his face away from the cameras.

As dead end after dead end turned up and time grew longer and longer, their fear grew. But they didn't give up. Even now, even after orders came down to officially drop the case, even after they'd been reminded that people who were kidnapped did not survive this long, each member still kept the file in their desks. Each worked on it in their own way, on their own time.

A hand gently touched Morgan's arm, drawing him out of his thoughts. He brought his gaze up, locking on to the gentle and understanding stare of one of his best friends. Her usually smiling face lacked the sunshine that had usually sat there. Since this had started—_One year, six months, nineteen minutes and one second_—she hadn't smiled like she used to. Almost as if the joy in life had drained away from her.

"The day's almost done with." Garcia told him gently. "You don't look like you should be driving. You want me to take you home?"

Her concern was genuine, which made it all the harder to bear. For her sake, this woman who had been by his side through all of this, one of the best friends a guy could have, he tried to smile reassuringly. "I'll drive ok, baby girl." He reassured her. No need to tell her how late he planned on staying. How he couldn't bear to go home and sit around and do _nothing_. "But thanks."

"Sugar…" Her voice trailed off. Another change; Garcia had never before been at a loss for words or witty repartee. Yet now she only sighed softly and bent down to press a kiss to the top of his head. Off to the side, Morgan could see Emily turn away and wipe her face. There were no words for all of this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok, I just have to say, THANK YOU for the reviews! Wow, talk about feeling loved. I had no idea if anyone would even read what I wrote, let alone review and want more! I was going to leave it as a short, but I do have another chapter that I wrote for my own personal fun. So I thought since it was so popular I'd go ahead and post the next chapter of this. I really hope it lives up to what you guys thought it would be.**

**Warnings: Major Reid whumpage in this story. Violence/language such like that. Hints at slash in here, if you squint maybe. **

**I do not own them, no matter how much I might dream about it. Criminal Minds is not my property. I just borrow them every now and again to mess around with them. ;)**

**Anyways, enough of this! Let's read on!**

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><p>Another day, another moment, another piece of hell. Morgan stared at the desk again, his eyes traveling over the empty in box, the empty chair. All of it, so empty. His eyes drifted up toward the clock on the wall, his mind automatically doing the math that was never far away from him.<p>

One year, eight months, three days, two minutes and forty seconds.

How could two more months have gone by? Still no word of Spence. No sign of him, no hint anywhere. He hadn't come back, hadn't called them, hadn't contacted him. Strauss was pushing them again, telling them that they knew the chances of Reid being alive were nothing. If they ever found him, she said, they'd only be recovering a body now, if there was even a body to find. The team had stared at her, saying nothing, doing nothing. She wouldn't change their minds off of this

A sudden door crashing caught Morgan's attention, ripping his eyes away from the desk, from the clock. He looked up to see Rossi racing toward Hotch's office. A moment later the two emerged. "BAU team, conference room, now!" Hotch demanded. Then he and Rossi ran to the conference room.

Giving a strange look to Emily, the two rose to their feet, moving toward the room. What was going on? JJ joined them on the staircase, and Garcia came out of her office, moving with them. "What's going on?" JJ asked quietly.

Morgan shrugged. "I don't know, but it's gotta be something big."

They walked as a group into the conference room, all eyes immediately on Rossi, who was bent over the phone in the middle of the table. "This is SSA Rossi." He was saying. With one hand he gestured to the others to be silent. "I received a note to contact you immediately concerning our missing agent."

Everything inside of Morgan turned to ice. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. All he could do was stare at the phone. Missing Agent…that could only be Reid. Did this man have something about Reid? Would they finally get information on his whereabouts? Did…did they have a body?

"Yes, Agent Rossi. Your and Agent Hotchner's names were the ones that came up when I ran this information through the data base. A flag, the instant we input the name that said to call the number listed. Yours was the first one I tried. I was just about to try Agent Hotchner's."

"Yes, yes. What do you have for us?"

"We've got a gentleman here, had him here for a few hours. Fingerprints came back and listed him as a Dr. Reid, part of the BAU in the FBI."

It was Hotch who asked the question they all dreaded. "Is he alive?"

The man's response was quick. "Yes, yes! I'm so sorry. Yes, he's alive." There was an audible release of breath in the room. Morgan felt like he was going to drop, right then and there. Reid was alive. He was alive! Sweet God! Where had he been all this time?

The voice on the phone continued talking. "We're over here at the Virginia State Police division headquarters in Fairfax. We were going to collect our suspect in a string of murders we had. When we swept the house, we found your friend in the basement. He's been treated at the hospital and brought back here."

"We'll be there in thirty. No one is to talk to him, to question him, nothing, until I am present. Is that clear?" Hotch switched over to his Unit Chief voice, demanding control, issuing orders. Morgan started to blank it out. All he could think of was that Reid was alive. His eyes traveled over the girls beside them, seeing all their faces stained with tears.

The room had gone quiet again. Looking at them all, Hotch drew their attention to him. Even his eyes were slightly red as he gave them a smile. "Let's go bring him home." He told them all. Reid was alive!

"SSA Hotchner?" The detective asked when he caught sight of them. He walked over, one hand extended. Hotch took it and shook, but to his team it was obvious that he didn't care about pleasantries. His eyes were darting around the police station, looking for one thing. The one thing that all of them were looking for.

The detective gave Hotch a half smile that showed no signs of mirth. "I'm Detective Kurgan. I understand that you're all wanting to see your friend, but I need you to step in here with me for a moment first. There's something I think you should see, Agent Hotchner."

Hotch nodded. The group started to move, all of them following Detective Kurgan. When they reached a small room at the back of the eerily silent station, Detective Kurgan looked back at them. His expression turned unsure for a moment. "Maybe your team should, um, wait out here. I'm not sure if this is something everyone should see." He suggested, eyes drifting over JJ, Prentiss and Garcia.

Before they could protest, Hotch shook his head. "We'll all come in." He said firmly.

After a moment's hesitation, the detective nodded. He gestured them all inside the room, following in at the end and shutting the door. Morgan wanted to shout at the man to bring Reid out to them. He wanted to rip the place apart and find him. A tremble ran down his body with the force of trying to hold it in. As if she understood, Garcia linked their hands, squeezing lightly.

"After our initial entry, our crime scene technicians swept the place. They found a computer in the…well, downstairs." Detective Kurgan moved toward a computer set up on the side of the room. He paused by it, one hand resting on the monitor. "I think you should see this before we take you to your friend."

"What exactly is this and why is it more important than going to see Reid?" Morgan snapped before he could stop himself. A warning look from Hotch and Rossi both stopped him in his tracks.

The look in the detective's eyes was almost heartbreaking. "Trust me, Agent." He said softly. "Before you see him, I think you need to see this. The…the bastard that had him videotaped everything. Non-stop. There's tons of footage. But this, this is the clip from when we found them. I think you should see it, to understand. So you're prepared." When no one said another word, Hotch simply gestured at the screen, the man clicked a few keys and then stepped back.

The team watched, unable to look away as the video started.

Pain was the first sensation Morgan felt. Clear as a bell he saw a figure in the center of the screen. It was male, that much was obvious as the man had no clothes on. He was standing, arms at his side, head bowed. There were marks all over the man's skin; bruises and cuts. Blood. He was so small. It took Morgan a moment to realize that this was Reid. Reid. Jesus.

Garcia's grip on his hand tightened as she realized the same thing. There was a soft gasp from Prentiss and JJ, but no other sound was heard in the room.

Another man stepped on screen. This man was fully clothed, but even then it was easy to see how physically fit he was. He was taller than Reid, and broader in the shoulders. The color image made it easy to see that the man's hair was dark brown and, as he moved in a circle around Reid while tapping a finger on his chin, Morgan could see the man's ice blue eyes.

"Now, now." The man said in a voice as deep and rough as gravel. "You've been a very, very bad boy today, haven't you?"

"Yes, Master." The reply was automatic. In that small room, though, the sound of Reid's voice after so long was enough to have them all jumping slightly. Morgan's eyes wanted to slide closed on the pain of it. God, it had been so long since he'd heard that voice! Yet hearing it, seeing Reid, it was like it had been only moments.

"Yes, you have. Kneel."

Even as the command was leaving the man's mouth, Reid was already dropping down to his knees. It looked like a pose he was well used to using. He knelt there, hands resting on his knees, head bowed down. Morgan could see that the movement had opened up one of the wounds on his back.

The man moved toward the wall. When he stepped back on screen, there was a whip in his hand….

*_"You've been a naughty, naughty boy, yes you have." He said as he walked around Reid. The light in his eyes showed his enjoyment when a tremor ran down Reid's small frame. "Yes, Master."_

_The whip snapped out, cracking across Reid's back. When Reid jumped, the man laughed. "That's it, show me that it hurts. I want to hear you scream. I want to know your punishment is working. Stay quiet and it will only last longer. I want your screams."_

_Again the whip flashed down; once, twice, three times. A throaty sound ripped out of Reid's throat, almost against his will. The man laughed and whipped him again, until Reid's screams were echoing around the room._

_He stopped suddenly, looking down at Reid with a detached look. "Recite." He snapped out. When Reid didn't immediately speak, the whip flashed out again. "Recite!"_

"_What do you wish to hear, Master?" Reid asked between sobs._

_The whip came down once more. "Recite!"_

_Between sobs and screams, Spencer Reid began to recite. "Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awakening, till the beam; Of an Eternity should bring the morrow. Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, 'Twere better than the cold reality…"_

_The whip moved faster and faster and Reid's words started to sound like screams. But he never stopped reciting. "Of waking life, to him whose heart must be, And hath been still, upon the lovely earth, A chaos of deep passion, from his birth. But should it be- that dream eternally; Continuing- as dreams have been to me. In my young boyhood- should it thus be given, 'Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven."_

_The words cut off for a moment when the man threw the whip down, broken by the younger man's sobbing. When he heard Reid stop talking, he kicked him. "I didn't say stop!"_

_A loud sniffle, then, "For I have revell'd, when the sun was bright I' the summer sky, in dreams of living light; And loveliness,- have left my very heart; In climes of my imagining, apart. From mine own home, with beings that have been; Of mine own thought- what more could I have seen? 'Twas once- and only once- and the wild hour from my remembrance shall not pass- some power; Or spell had bound me- 'twas the chilly wind. Came o'er me in the night, and left behind, Its image on my spirit- or the moon; Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon…"_

_The words were cut off by a sudden and loud crash off screen. "Virginia State Police!" A voice shouted. "Put your hands where I can see them!"_

_Reid's tormentor stopped, eyes darting around. He was too far away from the weapons to get any and had stepped too far from Reid to use him as a shield. There was no chance. Slowly he brought his hands up._

_Uniformed figures darted into the room, guns drawn, pointed directly at their target. Someone was on the man in an instant, snagging his hands and bringing them behind his back, cuffing him. The other officers, seeing the man cuffed, lowered their guns, obviously perceiving their threat as gone. None of them had expected what came next._

_With a strangled cry, Reid shot past the person who tried to touch him. He dove for his captor's leg, wrapping his hands around the man's calf. "Let him go! Let him go!" he screamed and sobbed. The whole room looked frozen as Reid buried his face against the leg of the man who had just been whipping him only minutes ago. "Let him go! Master, don't go! Please!"_

"_Hush, boy." In contrast to the anger before, the man's voice was almost gentle now. "Let me handle this."_

_One of the figures seemed to snap from his trance. It was Detective Kurgan. "Handle nothing. Vincent Montgomery, you're under arrest for the kidnapping, assault, and murder of seven women." He told the man, this Vincent. He stood beside him as he rattled off Vincent's rights to him. The whole time, Reid sobbed quietly against Vincent's leg._

_When Vincent said he understood his rights, Detective Kurgan gestured for them to take him out of the room. But, again, they didn't take Reid into account. As soon as Vincent was being moved, Reid clung tighter and his wailing grew louder. "No, no! Don't take him! Please, don't take him from me!"_

"_Sir, sir, we need you to let go." Another officer said. He took a step toward Reid, arms extended._

_For the first time, Vincent showed anger. "Don't touch him!" He barked out at the officer. The other officer holding him jerked on his chains, but Vincent ignored it and dropped his head down to look at Reid. "Let go, boy." He ordered him in a deep, hard voice. "Now."_

_Instantly Reid let go._

"_You follow my rules till I can come get you, boy. I'll know if you don't." Vincent snarled. "Don't let these people touch you. Don't let them Have you. You're _mine_. You'll see me soon. I will come for you."_

_Vincent was yanked from the room before he could say anything else. Reid started to cry harder. Arms up, hands laced into his long hair, he rocked on his knees and sobbed, whispering so softly that the others didn't realize he was talking. "Too coldly- or the stars- howe'er it was that dream was as that night-wind- let it pass. I have been happy, tho' in a dream. I have been happy- and I love the theme: Dreams! in their vivid coloring of life, As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife Of semblance with reality, which brings To the delirious eye, more lovely things Of Paradise and Love- and all our own! Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known."_

_He had finished the poem. After that, though all were staring at him, he said not a word. At least, not until someone said that the paramedics were there and one of the cops stuck out a hand and touched his arm, trying to help him to his feet._

_In that instant, Reid went crazy. He lashed out, flinging himself back. "Don't touch me!" he shrieked. He grabbed something off the nearby table, flinging it forward as he still tried to scramble backwards. Object after object flew forward. The cops tried to deflect them, trying to move toward Reid before he did them or himself any real harm._

_Paramedics swarmed the room suddenly, filling up the frame. Between them and the cops they cornered Reid, who was screeching like a banshee by now. He fought them as they tried to grab him, hitting and kicking where he could…*_

Detective Kurgan stopped the video, lifting his eyes to look around the room. "He took out two officers, injured two more, as well as one of the paramedics before they finally got him sedated."

"Jesus." Morgan breathed. Who knew the kid had it in him to take out that many people? Especially weaponless, backed against a wall? He tried to shut out what he'd seen; to burn the images out of his brain. It wasn't working. He felt Garcia trembling beside him and slid his arm around her waist to try and offer comfort. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. Morgan could feel tears burning at the back of his eyes, but he held them in.

Kurgan looked at them, one after another. "Do you all know what that was he was reciting? Or why it's important?"

It was Rossi who answered. "That was Edgar Allen Poe's poem Dreams. I doubt the poem itself was significant as much as the obeying of the command and the recitation."

"How on earth could he recite it like that?" Kurgan asked them.

This was an easy answer. Morgan felt his lips curve. How many times had he heard Reid explain this to people that asked? "He has an IQ of 187, and eidetic memory, can read 20,000 words per minute, holds .' in Mathematics, Chemistry and Engineering, as well as B.A.s in Psychology and Sociology and he was working on a B.A. in Philosophy. He was our genius."

They all chuckled at the expression Kurgan wore. The moment grew serious again as they looked back at the stopped video. "Where is he now?" Hotch asked, his voice hard and gruff. To others it would sound cold; to his team, they knew the emotion held tightly underneath it.

"They took him to the hospital, treated his back and such." Detective Kurgan said. "Did tests, made sure that he'd be physically ok. Then they brought him back here. He freaked at the hospital, tried to escape twice. He's burning the sedative off too fast and they were scared to give him too much. All he wanted was to get here to the station to wait. The doctors suggested that it'd be better for his health if he was allowed. So, we've got him down in interrogation three. The bastard that took him is in interrogation room one."

It took everything Morgan had not to race out of the room and go down to interrogation room one and beat the living hell out of the bastard who had kept Reid for so long.

"We'll need copies of his medical files." Rossi spoke up, a calm voice in the midst of their chaos.

The detective nodded. "I'll go get those for you, as well as the rest of it." By the door, Detective Kurgan stopped, looking at them all. "I understand he's your friend, but I need you all to remember. There are seven women in my morgue. And unless I get this man to talk, your friend down there is my only potential witness. He also has to be considered a suspect. I'm sorry."

The instant the door shut, JJ rounded on them all. "A suspect? How on earth is he a suspect?" She demanded in a watery voice. One of her hands came up, swiping at her face. "He's a _victim_."

Prentiss shook her head at her friend. "He's been with the Unsub for a year and a half. During that time, seven women were kidnapped, beaten, raped, and then murdered, their bodies dumped into the river. They have to question him."

"Screw that." Morgan finally snapped. "Why aren't we down there seeing him? That's our Reid down there!"

"And we will go see him, Morgan." It was Hotch this time, his voice almost as firm as normal. "As soon as I view his medical file and understand what we're dealing with."

Closing his eyes, Morgan stood and tried to gather his composure. _I'm coming, kid. We're here. We're coming down to you and we'll take care of you. You won't have to hurt anymore._

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><p><em><strong>Oh, I hope you guys liked this one! Let me know if you want more, any opinions, anything! All is appreciated! Thank you, thank you!<strong>  
><em>


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N - So, I just have to say, I'm very happy to see how many people are following this story now! Wow, I never really expected that many people to like what I write lol. To those of you, though, that are upset at finding out that this is a slash story, well, I'm really sorry. But Slash is what I like. I may do one shots at some point that aren't, but mostly, I write slash. Sorry it doesn't work out for you. :)**

**Ok, same warnings as always, this story will end up earning its M rating, I promise you that. Also, language, violence, all that stuff. So, forewarned, ok? And the normal disclaimer too. Don't own them, have never even met them (Wish I did and wish I had)**

**Well I guess it's time to read on! This part of the story is in Reid's POV and I hope I've done a good job of portraying his own private thoughts. Hope you like it and please, please review! it lets me know the story is worth continuing lol**

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><p>No, no, no, no. Why wouldn't they just leave him alone? Why wouldn't they just let him go see Master? He had to! He had to see Master! But no, Master was going to come get him. Master had said he'd see him soon. He just had to be a good boy until then. Master had told him to follow the rules, that he'd know if he didn't. He always knew.<p>

So he was kneeling on the hard floor of this room, ignoring the aching, ignoring the cold. His hands were resting on either knee, his head was bowed down. Master would come get him and he'd see how good he was. Master would see what a good boy he was.

These people here, they were trying to get him in trouble, he knew they were. They'd taken Master away. They'd tried to break Master's rules! Then they'd taken him to a hospital where people had touched him, poked at him. Master didn't want others touching him!

Unable to help it, he'd panicked. He'd tried to escape. To follow Master's orders. But they'd stopped him. Finally someone had come and spoken with him, asking him questions, but he hadn't answered. He knew better than to talk to strangers. So he'd stayed silent. Then people had been there, trying to dress him. He'd panicked again, but the doctor had stepped up, telling him "You can't go in public naked, Dr. Reid. If you want to go to the station where your Master is, you have to put on clothes to get there."

He had no idea who this Dr. Reid was—maybe the guy was talking to himself?—but he understood what he was being told. There were two choices. Follow Master's orders and refuse clothes and stay here, or disobey Master's orders about clothes and go to the station where he could be with Master. He'd donned the clothes.

Only until they'd put him in this room, though. Then he'd shed them, tossing them aside. He wasn't allowed clothes. No, no. Someone had tried to come in, to drape a blanket over him and whisper quietly in his ear. He'd held perfectly still until she'd left. Then he threw the blanket in the corner as well. There was no point to fighting them physically. He'd found that out earlier. They would just overpower him again.

Master was going to be furious when they got home! He couldn't help but flinch at that. Master would punish him for this. This was his fault, somehow. His fault. He was such a bad boy. Such trouble. Master was right to hurt him. He was lucky, so lucky, that Master let him live. So lucky.

The door to his room, his cell, opened. Every part of his body locked down tight. He never lifted his eyes from the floor.

There was a click of heels on the ground, two sets. Women, then. Some of the tension drained away. Women didn't terrify him the way that Master did, the way that other men could. The officers had terrified him with their badges and guns and their hands. Women had…cared for him. No, no, he pushed that thought back, refusing to think of it. No.

One set of heels stopped about a half a foot in front of him. Black heels, he thought to himself. Sensible. Professional. As were the dark slacks. Then those long legs were shifting, bending, and the woman was squatting in front of him. Under a shelter of his hair, he snuck a peek. She was pretty. Dark hair, bright eyes, nice smile. He hoped Master didn't find her. She was just his type.

"Hey there." She said in a soft voice. The words caressed him. He closed his eyes, trying to shut it all off. No, he couldn't go through this again. Not another girl. If he cared about her, Master would hurt her more. He'd learned that the hard way. Master hurt the ones that his boy cared about. The boy cared about no one else, now. Just his Master.

"Do you remember who I am?" The woman asked him.

Remember? He had never seen her before! But he couldn't answer her. Master would punish him for talking. He wasn't allowed to talk to strangers.

Another peek showed him that the woman was smiling. "It's ok, it's ok." She told him gently. She sounded so kind! "You don't have to worry about it. Maybe you'll remember me later. My name is Emily. Can you tell me what your name is?"

Why was she still here, asking questions? Master was going to come soon. He always did. Especially when the pretty ladies were around. Oh, he hated watching Master hurt the pretty ladies. Hated it. They had only been trying to be nice to him. He hadn't been able to save any of them. But…maybe he could save her. Maybe he had time.

"You need to leave." He whispered from behind his hair.

The pretty lady, Emily, made a soft sound of surprise. "What?"

"You need to leave." He tried again. "Before Master comes. Before he finds you. He'll hurt you."

There was quiet for a moment. "Does he hurt a lot of women?" Emily asked him kindly.

Didn't she understand? She had to go! "Master hurts the pretty ladies. They make him mad. They…were nice to me. So he hurt them." Other images came then, flashing in his brain, bringing the trembles to his small frame. No, he didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to think of those smiling lips, those pleading voices, the blood bright on his hands…

"How many pretty ladies did he hurt?" Again, Emily sounded so kind. He was already in trouble for talking, what more could it hurt? If he told her, maybe she'd run while she still had the chance. While she could still get free.

"Eighteen." He said softly. Have to speak softly so Master didn't catch him. But Master always caught him. Master always knew. "I tried to help them. I let him hurt me instead. It's better when he hurts me. But the pretty ladies cry. They cry when I'm bad and he punishes me." Pain leaked into his voice. "He's going to punish me for talking to you."

"Honey, no one's going to tell him that you spoke, I promise you."

"Master knows." He whispered back. "Master always knows. He'll punish me because I'm bad. I'm a bad, bad boy. I deserve it."

Talking was wrong. Talking was against the rules. He knew that. Yet, he had still spoken to the pretty lady! Master had told him to follow all the rules. He knew what that meant. A shudder ran down him. He knew what he had to do. Master had told him, time and time again.

Curling his hands, he dug his nails into his legs, dragging them up his skin as hard as he could. Once, twice…

A soft exclamation and then the other heels were moving forward. Emily, pretty Emily, whispered something but the other lady ignored her. Brightly colored heels came into view as he scratched his legs again. Then this woman was kneeling too, mirroring his pose. Her hands came out and covered his.

He couldn't help it, he jumped. But he couldn't fight against a lady. No, that was against the rules too. Master told him to do as the ladies said. Hurting them was Master's job. He didn't like others hurting what was his.

Looking at the hands holding his, he noticed all the rings she wore. Against his will his eyes traveled up, his entire body perfectly still. Up, up, up, until he reached her face. For one single instant he felt everything in him freeze, locking down tight. All he could do was stare at her.

Stare at her professional, dark plaid dress, covered by a bright yellow jacket. The large, beaded necklace around her neck and the headband in her hair were both the same bright yellow, as were the large hoop earrings she wore. Her lips, painted a bright cherry red. Those black framed glasses. From the depths of his memory, buried deep in a place he didn't allow himself to see, didn't allow himself to feel, a name floated to the surface. "Garcia?"

He heard both her and Emily's gasps, but his eyes were still locked on her. He knew her. He _knew_ her. An image came, her sitting in a chair, a row of screens in front of her, toys all over her desk. She was laughing as her fingers flew over the keys. Always laughing. Penelope Garcia, who had a love for life like no one else.

He held his breath as he waited. Nothing else came with it. Just that single name, that one memory. It was too much. It was pain, sharp and hot inside of him. He knew her!

"Oh, baby." Garcia whispered to him. Her hands gripped his, lacing their fingers together. "Yeah, it's me. It's Garcia."

Before he realized it, words were pouring past his lips, hard and fast. "You have to get out of here, Garcia. You have to go now. Take the pretty lady with you. Please, hurry. Before he comes back! He'll hurt you, all of you. I can't let him hurt you. I won't! Please, just go! Don't turn around, don't come back, don't stop, and don't listen. Go, go, go. Master will hurt you. I don't want Master to hurt you."

"I don't want Master to hurt you either, baby cakes."

"Master loves me." He told her. His grip on her fingers tightened. "Master hurts me because I'm bad. Because I'm a bad boy. He takes care of me. But he'll hurt you. Go. I'll be bad, I'll let him get mad so you can go."

Tears built in Garcia's eyes. He watched as they went down her cheeks in little rivers. She was crying for him. They all did, right up until the end. Each one of their tears was burned into his heart.

"Oh, sugar plum, no one's going to hurt you anymore. I won't let them." Garcia stopped when Emily leaned in. Watching, he saw Emily whisper something in her ear. He couldn't hear what it was. But then Garcia nodded. Her eyes came back to him. "Can you tell us a few things, sweetie?" She asked him. "Just Emily and me. We're the only ones in here and I promise you, we won't tell a soul you spoke. I promise that your Master doesn't even know we're in here. He won't hurt any of us."

She was big on promises. He remembered that about her. She was big on promises. Could…could he trust her? Though he knew he would be punished for it later, he couldn't help but be selfish right now. If answering her questions kept her in here for a little while longer, if they were really safe like she said…he had to do it. For the first time in so long, he was looking at someone he knew. Even if what he remembered about her was so little, it was like a drug; he couldn't let go. Before he could change his mind, he nodded.

"Good, good. Emily is going to ask you a few things, ok?"

Afraid she would move, he convulsively tightened his grip on her hands. When he realized what he'd done, he tried to let go and jerk his hands back, but she just gripped his fingers tighter. It wasn't painful. It was…nice. He nodded again.

Emily's voice joined in again, sweet and gentle. "Let's try a few simple things first, ok?"

Simple, ok. He could do simple.

"What's your name?"

That was easy. "Boy." He told her.

The fingers holding his seemed to jerk for a minute. Garcia spoke next, slowly, as if she thought he'd misunderstood. "No, sweetie. Your name."

"Boy." He answered automatically. That was his name. Had he answered badly? Were they mad at him now?

But Emily seemed to draw a breath and move on. "Do you know where you are?"

"Fairfax, Virginia. At Division Headquarters in Division Seven with the Virginia State Police."

"That's right. We drove here from the FBI headquarters in Quantico. Do you know how far away that is?"

The answer came without thinking about it, like so many other moments in his life. "If you take the I-95 North to the VA-123 North then it would be twenty eight point twenty four miles and take approximately forty two minutes to arrive. If you took the US-1 north to the VA-123 north than it would be twenty seven point forty one miles. Or you could take just I-95 north and it would be thirty point eighteen miles. The easiest path but the longest time."

A soft chuckle was the response to his ramble. He analyzed the sound, he had become good at judging moods in sounds, and decided that there was no anger or maliciousness to it. This was easy so far. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Maybe Master wouldn't be too mad when he found out.

"Ok, honey. We're going to ask some things that are a little harder now, ok? But only if you're ok with this."

If he was ok with it? The idea flabbergasted him. He…he was never asked what he wanted to do. He was told. That was the rules. Mulling the idea of it over, he nodded at them. Garcia squeezed his hands reassuringly.

"You said your Master hurt eighteen women. Are any of them still alive?"

A shudder ran down him. He couldn't force himself to say the word, so he shook his head no. Blood, everywhere, churning his stomach. God!

"So your Master killed all of them?"

Shock slammed into him like a fist to the gut. What? It was enough to have him breaking his pose, his face lifting to look at Emily head on. "What?" he croaked out. "No!" How could they think that? Didn't they know the truth?

"It's ok, honey, it's ok." Emily said soothingly, making soft gestures with her hands. "He can't hurt you, we told you that. He's not going to hurt you for telling us the truth."

The truth? They wanted to know the truth? "Master didn't kill them!" he insisted brokenly. Tremors grew and grew until they shook his whole body. Again he saw the blood, all over the floor, all over his hands, the past memory fusing over top of the present moment, sheening everything in that bloody haze. It was everywhere.

"If your Master didn't kill them, then who did?" Emily asked him.

He let go of Garcia's hands, lifting his up and looking at the palms. The red stayed there, staining his skin. No matter how often it was washed, it never went away. He had to tell her the truth. Had to, to save Master. This is what they took him for? Oh, he knew now what he was being punished. Why he was a bad boy. They had taken Master, but he hadn't done what they said he did. "I did."

"What?"

"I did." He said softly, Then, louder. "I did." Louder still, "I did it!"

Emily reached for him and all he knew was that she couldn't touch him. Not the pretty lady. He couldn't let her touch the blood that was on him. Couldn't rub it off onto her. With a squeak he shot backwards, falling slightly as he did, his legs sliding out and knocking her over as well. It didn't matter. He didn't care. He shoved back to the corner, screaming at her as he did. "Go away, go away! No, no!"

There was the sound of footsteps outside the room. He couldn't stop the panic. Emily tried to come to him and he shoved the chair nearby out into her path. "No! Go!"

Footsteps again, louder now. Master was coming. It didn't matter. He rocked in his corner, staring at his hands, at the blood he could see there.

A gentle pair of hands touched him, trying to pull him forward. He pushed them away, screeching. He tried to yank back and hide. But they took hold of him, pulling him in, wrapping him tight in something that he hadn't felt in so long. A hug.

He tried to break free without hurting her. He bucked, he screamed, he pushed against the wall, but those arms never let go. They held him close, his head cradled against her bosom, one hand coming up to stroke over his hair. "Shh, shh, baby. I've got you. It's ok, I've got you." She whispered to him. Garcia. Sweet, happy Penelope Garcia.

Someone said something, a deep male voice that sounded furious and it had him redoubling his efforts to break free. Then Garcia, her voice pleading "Emily!" And finally, through his own screams he heard Emily, her voice loud and commanding. "Everyone out! Out!"

Another voice, this one male. It tugged on his mind, almost familiar. "Clear the room, now!"

Then none of it mattered anymore. None of it was important. Panic grew and grew, taking over every inch of him. In the arms of the only person in the world beside Master that he could remember, the boy broke apart and sobbed. He cried until his body couldn't take it anymore and dragged him down into the peacefulness of the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Wow, thank you all for your positive reviews! You're really really making me feel great about this story. Really! So, thank you so much! Now, as for this chapter, I'm not going to spoil the whole chap, and I know it might not seem as long as my others, but I apologize to those who were looking for something more... I know there's some repetition here but I needed this to be seen from the other side of the glass, ok? I promise, a little more will happen in the next one, which I might just update in a few hours :D Anyways, read on!**

**DISCLAIMERS: same as before. Oh, and I don't own them, blah blah. Do I really need to put that on every chapter? I hope not :P**

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><p>From the other side of the two way glass, the team watched as Emily and Garcia walked into the room with Reid. It was heartbreaking to stand there and look at the kneeling form in that interrogation room. The first sight of him had been like a blow to Morgan. Everything inside of him had ached. <em>God, look at him<em> he'd thought to himself. _Look at the kid!_

There were welts and bruises all over Reid's body. Light scars were peppered over his skin. His kneeling position presented his side to them, so that they could see the side of his arm and leg and just a glimpse of his back. It was enough to make them cringe.

"How the hell has he survived?" Morgan asked. Even through the glass he could see a few longer scars along Reid's side, or on his leg. "How the hell was he beaten like that and still managed to survive it?"

"He's one tough kid." It was Rossi who spoke up this time. Their eyes all turned to him, but he continued to watch as Emily spoke softly. "To live through this kind of torture, he had to be tough."

Detective Kurgan looked over to Rossi. "Tough? That man broke him. Listen to how he talks about his 'Master'. He sounds like he _loves_ the guy."

Hotch shifted, his eyes locked on the scene in front of him. "He does, in a sense." He answered the Detective. "It's known as Stockholm syndrome."

"What is Stockholm syndrome?"

"It's a when hostages have positive feelings towards their captors, sometimes to the point of defending them. Such as you saw when you took Vincent and Reid tried to defend him. It happens when someone's been under their captor's care for a long period of time. Not always, but it does happen. Strong emotional ties between the captive and his captor."

Seeing that the Detective was confused, Morgan stepped in. "When a person is beaten, day after day, their mind slowly starts to break down. Everything in that person's life begins to revolve around the hell that they're living in. The person who has them becomes God, so to speak. He brings pain or comfort. He can hurt you, or he can heal you. Everything in your life is dictated by him. After a while, a captive can begin to love their captor for those kind moments and they begin to think that their pain is their punishment for doing something wrong. So they strive to do everything right; to be what their captor, their master, wants them to be."

"That's just crazy." He shook his head, stealing a glance at Reid again. "Ok, so why is he naked on the floor of my room?"

Hotch looked over to Kurgan. "Most likely that's how he's forced to be at home. A lot of kidnappers, especially when sexual assault is included, make clothes either a privilege for their captive, or they refuse to allow them any kind of covering. They want to see the handiwork they've left behind. It's also another way to break down the mind and make them rely totally on you."

A sound from the interrogation room cut off their conversation. All of them watched as Emily asked one of the important questions in her effort to keep him at ease. "How many pretty ladies did he hurt?"

The answer Reid gave had all of them staring. "Eighteen."

"Eighteen of them?" Detective Kurgan swore. "We only found seven!"

Rossi gestured for him to hush as Reid kept talking. "I tried to help them. I let him hurt me instead. It's better when he hurts me. But the pretty ladies cry. They cry when I'm bad and he punishes me." Pain leaked into his voice. "He's going to punish me for talking to you."

"Honey, no one's going to tell him that you spoke, I promise you." Emily said soothingly. Her eyes lifted to the glass, looking at them for a moment with so much heartbreak.

"Master knows." Reid whispered back. "Master always knows. He'll punish me because I'm bad. I'm a bad, bad boy. I deserve it."

Morgan wanted to close his eyes. He wanted to cover his ears and get as far away from here as possible. God, this poor kid. The hell he had lived through, all of them could only imagine! Could they blame him for latching on to the only person that had been in his world for the past few years?

He couldn't take his eyes off Reid as the younger man suddenly started to draw his nails over his legs. They could all see the welts he left behind.

Detective Kurgan cursed. "What the hell is he doing?"

"He's punishing himself." Rossi explained. "He's not supposed to talk, I'd imagine, and especially not about these 'pretty ladies'. Without Vincent here to punish him, he has to punish himself, but there's nothing here for him to do it with."

They all heard the muted exclamation, drawing their eyes to Garcia, who had been standing nervously behind Emily, totally unsure of what to do. She didn't look unsure now. That caring, protective side of her reared its head and she was suddenly moving forward and dropping to his knees. Morgan shifted, ready to race in there if he needed to, to pull her back to safety. Reid had hurt others when he'd been cornered.

But Reid surprised them once more. When Garcia touched him, Reid visibly froze, but he didn't turn violent. Instead, he stayed there, his hair curtaining his face. Suddenly he whispered "Garcia?"

"Would you look at that?" Rossi said with amazement.

He hadn't known who Emily was when they'd come in, but one look at Garcia and he whispered her name in a voice so full of heartache. Hope flared bright in Morgan. His pretty boy was still buried in there somewhere. A part of him still remembered. Thank God!

"Oh, baby." Garcia whispered to him. Her hands gripped his, lacing their fingers together. "Yeah, it's me. It's Garcia."

Reid's head seemed to tip up a little. It was like the floodgates suddenly opened. His voice filled their observation room. "You have to get out of here, Garcia. You have to go know. Take the pretty lady with you. Please, hurry. Before he comes back! He'll hurt you, all of you. I can't let him hurt you. I won't! Please, just go! Don't turn around, don't come back, don't stop, and don't listen. Go, go, go. Master will hurt you. I don't want Master to hurt you."

"I don't want Master to hurt you either, baby cakes."

"Master loves me." He told her. "Master hurts me because I'm bad. Because I'm a bad boy. He takes care of me. But he'll hurt you. Go. I'll be bad; I'll let him get mad so you can go."

For a moment Morgan had to turn away, to stare at the wall opposite him. He couldn't stand listening to Reid talk that way. Not his sweet, shy, awkward little Reid. Where were the hesitant smiles he'd used to give? Where was that innocence in his eyes that had been so entrancing? The man had seen some of the worst as a profiler, yet he'd still retained a semblance of innocence. It was gone now.

He started paying attention when he heard Garcia say "Good, good. Emily is going to ask you a few things, ok?"

Morgan turned back and watched as Emily asked Reid, "Let's try a few simple things first, ok?" She paused, waited, and then "What's your name?"

"Boy."

Garcia looked at the window and back at Reid, confused. "No, sweetie. Your name."

"Boy." He sounded confused that they'd asked him that again.

Emily, well used to talking to victims, dropped that one and moved on. "Do you know where you are?"

"Fairfax, Virginia. At Division Headquarters in Division Seven with the Virginia State Police."

"That's right. We drove here from the FBI headquarters in Quantico. Do you know how far away that is?" Her mouth quirked as she asked this. Rossi and Hotch had told her to try and ask triggering questions, things that the old Reid might have known. This was one of them.

Reid didn't even hesitate to answer. "If you take the I-95 North to the VA-123 North then it would be twenty eight point twenty four miles and take approximately forty two minutes to arrive. If you took the US-1 north to the VA-123 north than it would be twenty seven point forty one miles. Or you could take just I-95 north and it would be thirty point eighteen miles. The easiest path but the longest time."

"Ok, honey. We're going to ask some things that are a little harder now, ok? But only if you're ok with this."

Morgan's eyes locked on to Reid. Here was where it was going to get difficult.

"You said your Master hurt eighteen women. Are any of them still alive?"

Reid shook his head no. Behind him, Morgan heard Kurgan curse, but he paid no attention. All his attention was focused on Reid.

"So your Master killed all of them?" Emily asked.

At her question, Reid's head jerked up, throwing his hair back from his face. They could see his wide eyes; the shock plainly written on his face. "What?" he croaked out. "No!"

"It's ok, honey, it's ok." Emily read the obvious stress her question had brought and tried to tone it down. She had her hands out in a gesture universal to ask for calm. "He can't hurt you, we told you that. He's not going to hurt you for telling us the truth."

"Master didn't kill them!"

"If your Master didn't kill them, then who did?" Emily asked him.

Reid let go of Garcia, holding his hands up so that he was staring at his palms. Before he spoke the words, Morgan knew what he would say. "I did."

"What?" Emily looked stunned.

"I did." He repeated it twice more, growing louder with each one. The profiler in Emily stopped and the friend kicked in. She reached for him, obviously intending on trying to soothe him. They all knew that this was the wrong thing. They were already moving toward the door when Reid shot backwards, knocking him and Emily both over. His voice echoed out of the room "Go away, go away! No, no!"

Cops were swarming the hall, making it almost impossible for them to get to the room. Seeing the others trapped in the mass, Morgan growled and just started to push his way through. "Move!" he barked out. It startled enough people that he made his way through the crowd, closer to the door. Over all their voices he could hear Reid still screaming. It gave him extra strength to barrel through the last part of the crowd.

When he reached the door he was surprised by what he saw. Emily was rising from the floor, trying to gesture the cops back. Over in the corner, Reid was screaming and crying, but he was wrapped tightly in Garcia's arms.

She was holding Reid against her, kneeling beside him, his head pillow against her chest. Soothingly she whispered to him, words that couldn't be heard over everyone. Though Reid was still bucking, looking as if he was trying to get free, he wasn't doing anything that would physically hurt Garcia. It looked like he was trying to get free without hurting her.

"Everyone out!" Emily called out, waving her hands. "Out!" She'd obviously lost her patience with the group.

Seeing that they weren't listening to her, Morgan stepped up, shouldering into the room. He put his shoulder against hers and pointed over top the cops. "Clear the room, now!" He barked out.

Then Hotch and Rossi were there, pulling people back, clearing them from the hallway. "I got this, Hotch." Rossi told him, following the group out. They could hear him calling out to them as they got further away "No one was hurt in there, I assure you…"

Once JJ and Hotch were in the room, JJ shut the door behind her. That left all of them to turn and face Garcia and Reid. The younger man had gone limp in her arms. One look told Morgan that Reid had escaped into unconsciousness. But still Garcia held him, her cheek resting on his head as she rocked him, stroking her fingers through his hair. All the while she crooned softly to him, whispering little soothing words like a mother with a child that woke from a nightmare. But this wasn't something that could be hugged away or made better by a kiss.

Looking at his friend, Morgan asked "You ok, Prentiss?"

She nodded at him. "Yeah. It wasn't his fault. I shouldn't have reached out to him like that, not while he was stressed. But he didn't hurt me. I'm fine."

The group turned as one to look over to where Garcia was still rocking the young man. "What the hell are we going to do with him, Hotch?" Morgan asked quietly. "How the hell are we going to help him heal from this?"

"I don't know. But first things first, we've got to get done with the cops here and get him released before we figure out the rest of it. Garcia, he's obviously latched on to you as someone he trusts. Do you mind staying here with him?" The unit chief asked her.

There was a fierce light in Garcia's eyes as she held Reid even closer. "I'll watch over him. No one is going to get in here with him." She said.

Hotch nodded at her. "Good. Morgan, I want you to stay here, stand guard. The rest of you, let's go out there and get Dave and go see what we can do to help them with the bastard down the hall. If I have my way, we'll have him in jail and Reid home before the day is out."

All of them having their assignments, the group dispersed. Once they were gone, Morgan shut the door and took a seat at the table, stationing himself between the door and his charges. He looked over at his two best friends. He rose suddenly, grabbing the blanket from the corner and coming to tuck it around Reid. Garcia shifted her grip long enough to let Morgan tuck the man in and then she was pulling Reid back to her, keeping him safe in the circle of her arms.

Morgan stepped back and took his seat again. "What are we going to do with him, baby girl?" he asked quietly.

"We're going to keep him safe and help him heal." She answered promptly. "No one is going to hurt him again, not on our watch. I'll claw their eyes out."

Smiling softly, Morgan went back to watching Reid. Even in sleep the younger man didn't lose the fear and stress in his face. They had one hell of a road ahead of them.

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><p><strong>Well - good, bad, don't care? R&amp;R Please! :D<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N This chapter is a little short, I know. But this and the next chapter were originally ONE chapter, but it made it really long lol so I decided to break it up. If it doesn't seem right, well, sorry. I tried my best. My first kind of scene like this. And, again, any reviews are much appreciated and welcome! I'll add the next chapter tomorrow :) Apparently I'm in the mood to write fast lately lol**

******Same disclaimer, don't own them. Same warnings, violence in this story. Not really this chap. But later. It's coming, just to warn you all. We WILL see what poor Spencer lived with.**

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><p>Standing in the conversation room, Aaron Hotchner stood and stared at the man who had kept his youngest agent captive for almost two years. He took a deep breath, steeling himself to try and do what needed to be done. They had to go talk to this man. Get information out of him. Not just on the seven murders down in the morgue, but also the others that Reid had spoken of. If they wanted this man to go to jail, they had to do this.<p>

But God, he didn't know if he could walk in there and calmly do his job. Never before had he been unable to turn things off. He'd always been able to turn his emotions off and do his job. But as he stood here staring at the sadistic bastard that had hurt Reid, he felt his hands shake with the urge to go and pound the man into the ground.

A hand on his arm drew his attention from the window for a moment. Dave Rossi stood beside him, his face a calm mask. "Let me take the interview, Aaron."

"What?"

"This hurts all of us, but I've got a little better control than you right now." Dave told him calmly. "I'm less likely to bash the bastards head in if he says something I don't want to hear. Let me take the interview."

There was no denying his logic. As much as it grated on him to do it, Aaron nodded. "Nail him to the wall, Dave. Nail this bastard."

"With pleasure."

The older agent left the room, appearing a moment later on the opposite side of the glass. For a short while Aaron simply watched them. Read the facial cues and body language. Tried to get a feel for the man. Then, when he felt he was in control, he flipped on the speaker so he could listen as well.

"…telling me that you admit to beating and raping those women?" Dave was saying.

Vincent gave him a sickly smile. "Of course. They already have evidence against me. DNA at my house, right?"

"That's right."

"Well then it'd be stupid to deny it. But I didn't kill them."

"How'd they die, then? How'd their bodies end up in the river?"

A harsh laugh slid past Vincent's lips. He leaned back in his chair, uncaring of the cuffs holding his hands to the metal circle in the center of the table. "They got in the river by being put there. As for the dying, you'd have to ask the boy. He was the one that was with them. If you're looking to pin me for seven murders, you've got another thing coming."

"Actually." Dave said, shuffling through the file in front of him. "We're looking to pin you for eighteen of them."

Something flashed over Vincent's eyes. His smile turned harder, sharper. "Ah. So the boy _is_ here then. He's been talking, I see." Shaking his head, the Unsub winked at Dave. "But, he's a delusional little man. You can't trust him to be accurate on numbers. Do you have eighteen bodies?"

The posture the man had, combined with the tone to his voice, told Aaron that Vincent knew they didn't have all the bodies. Either he'd found a way to destroy them or he was confident in his dumping ground.

"Things might go a little easier if you open up and tell us where to find those other eleven bodies, Vincent. You know we've got you for the other seven. They might be able to deal a little more with you if you tell us where to find the other bodies." As much as both of them hated it, it was the truth.

"Oh, I'll tell you." Vincent said, surprising them both. Then he dropped his bombshell. "On one condition. I want to see the boy."

"No."

Dave's answer had been immediate. But that didn't seem to bother Vincent at all. He chuckled, sitting back. "Then no deal, Agent. Sorry."

After that, no matter what Dave said, the man refused to answer him. Finally, when Dave got up and moved toward the door, Vincent lifted his head. "Oh, Agent Rossi?" He called out. Dave stopped, turning his head to look at him. The look on Vincent's face was chilling. "If you want to find the last woman before her time runs out, I suggest you rethink our deal here. The location of the bodies, and of her, in return for letting the boy come in here."

Silent, Dave stared at him just a moment longer. Then he shut the door.

Everyone but Garcia met in one of the conference rooms to discuss what Vincent had said. Predictably, the first reaction was shouting from most of the team. JJ looked absolutely horrified by the idea. Emily took a step back in shock before loudly declaring "No!" But Morgan was the loudest one of all. "Hell no, Hotch! There's no way we're letting him in there!"

"There's someone alive?" Kurgan asked in shock. He looked around at all of them. "If there's a chance we can save her…"

"And what's to say he's not lying?" Morgan demanded. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "What if we send Reid in there and the bastard doesn't tell us or we find out he's lying? I'm not putting the kid through that! He's been through enough."

Kurgan wasn't dissuaded. "If there's any chance at all that we can save her, how can we not take it?"

Things would have quickly escalated from there, but JJ stepped between the two, holding her hands out and calling for quiet.

The two senior agents weren't paying attention to the team. Dave was looking at Aaron, their eyes locked with unspoken messages. "You know what we have to do, Aaron." Dave finally whispered. After a moment, Aaron nodded. He did know. They couldn't risk another life being lost. As much as he hated it, he knew what had to be done.

Shock spread over Morgan's features when he realized what they were saying. "Hotch, you've got to be kidding me! You can't send the kid in there."

"If there's a chance that there's a girl still alive out there, what do you think the old Reid would have wanted us to do?" Aaron countered quietly. All of them knew the answer. Reid would have willingly walked into the room to save the girls life. Aaron hated it, but the profiler in him knew it was true. "That man has a bond to Reid. Granted, it's a horrible bond, but it's there. In his eyes, checking on his most cherished property is more important than keeping the secret of this woman being alive."

That knowledge didn't help Morgan any. "He's not in his right mind right now!" He bellowed at them all. "You saw him in there. What the hell is it going to do to him to make him go in there?"

Emotion clogged up Aaron's throat, but his eyes were stern as he stared at Morgan. "I'm sorry."

All the fight suddenly seemed to drain out of Morgan for a minute. His body slumped, shoulders drooping. He took a deep, ragged breath before he pulled himself back up straight. "He will _not_ go in alone." His voice dared anyone to argue with him. No one did. Now that he knew they agreed to that he seemed to gather himself more. "I'll tell them."

Aaron started to protest, but Morgan waved a hand at him. "Trust me, I'll handle Garcia better than anyone. She's going to be in full Mama mode and this is going to piss her off."

After his words, Aaron nodded. No one protested as Morgan turned and left the room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Don't own them, never have. Warnings: Sensitive topics in here**

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><p>Trembles ran up and down his body. It wasn't from the cold, though. Or, not the cold in the room. A cold that was deep inside of him. He'd been so bad. Punishment was coming, he just knew it. Garcia wasn't going to be able to protect him from it forever. He wouldn't let her, anyways. This had to be done. He was a bad boy. He deserved being punished. Plus, if she tried to stop it, Master might hurt her and he couldn't let that happen. No, oh no.<p>

Her presence was the most soothing thing he could remember in his life. Not that he really remembered anything before Master came. Master was his world now. Master was his life, his family, his everything. There was nothing for him but Master and that room in the house that was his cell. But he could feel vague memories tickling at him, memories of sitting in some strange room with Garcia, looking at screens with pictures on them. He could remember, if he tried hard enough, her boisterous laugh, always able to make everyone—_who was everyone?_—smile. But nothing more. No other memories. Thinking about those hurt in ways he hadn't known they could. Instinctively he rebelled against those thoughts. _Pain_ his mind told him. _Those are pain_.

The boy was glad to see that the pretty lady had gone. Maybe she'd listened to him. Maybe he had saved her. He didn't want Master to hurt her. No. Master thought it was funny when the boy tried to save them. It never worked.

Except for once. One time. This time, he knew, the pretty lady was still alive. But he hadn't told these people about her. If he did that, Master might kill them both, him and her. Boy couldn't let that happen. No, not after he'd worked so hard to save her. He closed his eyes against the memory.

_His throat was sore from screaming, but he still forced it to work as best he could. "Take it." He croaked, holding it out to her. In his hand sat a small paper clip. He'd managed to take it off some papers when Master had brought him upstairs to clean the house. _

_The pretty lady looked at him, tears in her bruised eyes. She lay before him, her naked body bruised and bleeding. But her eyes were locked onto the Boy. "What?" she whispered. They knew they had to whisper. She'd learned that fast. Master didn't want anyone talking to Boy._

"_Hide it in your hair." He whispered it so quietly that he wasn't sure she could hear him. But he knew Master better than her. This was his only chance to do this. Master had actually left the cameras off. Boy could tell because the red light on the camera wasn't on. Master was upstairs, sleeping, but he could get up at any moment, and he had good hearing. "In the back, in your hair, where he won't see it. Make it tight. Then, when he hides you, he'll come back here. I'll make him mad so he'll hurry back to punish me. Pull it out, make it straight, use it to pick the locks. Then run. Or he'll kill you like the other pretty ladies."_

_Tears dripped from the pretty lady's eyes. In the short time she'd been there, those eyes had changed so much. They always did. But Boy could see there was still life there; still some fire. "You use it." She said. "Get free. We can go together."_

_He shook his head. He knew better. This was his life now. This was his hell. He would never leave Master. He deserved this. But not her. She didn't. She'd done nothing to deserve this. She'd been…kind to him. "Take it."_

_A sound came from upstairs, a shifting that Boy knew. Master was waking up. "Hurry, take it!" he hissed._

_Hand trembling, the pretty lady reached out and took it. She quickly put it in her hair, making it tight so it would stay. She shook her head, making sure it wouldn't fall. Master's footsteps were coming closer now._

"_I'll get help for you." The pretty lady promised him. "I won't forget you."_

_As Master came down the stairs, he prayed she would forget him. Forget everything about this hell._

Master had never found out. He'd taken the pretty lady away, locking her at another place, because he was afraid that someone was watching him. He was going to wait for things to calm down before he had his fun with her. The boy had done as he'd promised; he'd made Master mad so that he'd hurried back. Made him mad so that he stayed there and didn't go out to her later on. Until the police had shown up.

His trembles grew and grew. Garcia whispered soothingly to him, rubbing one clear spot on his arm. He wished he could stay like this forever, in her warm arms, with that clean smell of her soap and perfume.

The door opened and the boy couldn't stop himself from jumping. He tugged away from Garcia, fighting against her hands, forcing himself into the position he was supposed to be in. On his knees, head bowed, hands on his thighs. The tears wanted to start but he held them in as best as he could. His training was branded straight down to the bone; he knew no other way to be.

Garcia tried to move him but a deep voice spoke, one that sounded familiar and yet not. "No, leave him be." The man said.

Surprise ran through the boy when he found that he didn't jump from this voice. He almost felt like he should know that voice. But he couldn't place it. Yet it sent feelings spiraling through him; things he hadn't felt in…forever. They were so foreign he didn't know what they were. Deep inside he shied away from those. He didn't know what they were but their intensity scared him.

There was movement, footsteps coming up on his left. He didn't move, didn't lift his eyes. Nothing. Then the footsteps stopped and the person squatted down. He could see the front of his black jeans, straining at the knees. More silence. Yet the boy didn't tremble. He marveled at himself.

"Hey there." That deep voice spoke again. It took the boy a moment to realize that the man was speaking to him. He didn't respond. He wasn't supposed to be talking. That didn't stop the man, though. "Is it ok if I talk to you for a minute?" Still, the boy said nothing.

Apparently the man took that as agreement. "Do you remember me, kid?"

The word kid arrowed inside of the boy, tugging at something he thought he should know. But pain came with it, pain in his heart and his mind and he curled back from the thought before it could form and hurt him more. No, no, he didn't want to think about that.

"That's ok. It'll come to you later. You and I, we were best friends at one time. Before your Master took you."

_Before Master? There was no 'before', only now. Only hell._

"You and I, we worked together at the FBI in the BAU, the behavioral analysis unit. We're profilers. It was our job to go and profile criminals and help the police catch them. That's what these guys want us to do here. They want us to help figure out what happened to all these women."

No, no, they were going to take him away. He could see the blood on his hands again, making them finally start to tremble.

The man kept talking. "Your Master talked to us. He said there's another one, one that's alive. One we can still save. That's what we want to do. We want to save her, kid. But to do that, he wants one thing first."

The boy knew what that was. How could he not? He knew his Master. "Me." The word came out before he realized it. When he did he trembled. He was a bad boy! He'd broken the rules _again_. Master was right. He needed to be with Master so he could be good. No one else could take care of him like Master did.

A soft gasp from Garcia was the only other sound for a moment. Then the man said "That's right. He wants to see you, to talk to you. Now, you don't have to do this. You can say no. But, if you're ok with this, we'll let you in there for a few minutes and he'll tell us where to find her at. Would you like to do it? Would you like to help the pretty lady?"

"Morgan, no!" Garcia cried out. One of the man's, Morgan's, hands came across the boy's vision, held out toward Garcia. Strangely, the boy didn't flinch. He was lost for a moment in amazement at the feelings inside of him. What on earth was that sensation? So many of them, confusing him.

But one thing was clear in all of this. "Yes." That was all he had to say. He had to help the pretty lady. Maybe she was free, but maybe she wasn't. Maybe they could save her.

"Someone will be there with you, kid. We won't let you go in alone and we won't let him hurt you, ok? And if you want out of there at any point, you tell us and we'll get you out, all right?"

He would see Master. Master wanted to see him. Was Master mad at him? Had he found out that he'd talked to the pretty lady? That he'd warned her? God, oh God. Nausea climbed into the boy's stomach but he held it back. He'd been a bad boy, he'd be punished. It was right.

He'd been so lost in thought that he'd missed Garcia arguing with Morgan. But they stopped now. The boy lifted his head. "Now?" he asked quietly.

A warm face smiled back at him, dark in contrast to his lightness. "That's right. You sure you're ready for this?"

He nodded. How could he not?

Garcia was the one to come help him to his feet. She grabbed the clothes from the corner and handed them to him. He understood the message. He had to dress to see Master. So he put the pants on, put the shirt on. He wanted to look to Garcia, felt an almost uncontrollable urge to hold her hand, but he knew that she wasn't involved in this. She couldn't be. He wouldn't let her be hurt.

Instincts that had been bred into him had him looking to the dark skinned man standing in the room. Men were always who were in charge. Big men.

It startled him to see the small smile on the man's lips. Absently the boy reminded himself that the man was Morgan. Not that he would ever say that out loud, oh no. He didn't want to do anything to anger this Morgan. Or anyone else. But privately, inside his own mind, he thought that the name suited the muscled man. He would think of him that way from now on—Morgan.

Morgan opened the door of the room and gestured to the boy to follow him out. He did; slowly, hesitantly. His steps were soft and unsure, bare feet padding on the cold floor. Down at the end of the hall a group of people were waiting. Immediately the boy felt the panic start, but then he saw the pretty lady. Emily. She was down there with them. Smiling at him. If she was smiling, it couldn't be that bad, right? She didn't look hurt. No bruises, no blood. Master hadn't got a hold of her yet. Thank God.

"He says he'll go in." Morgan said from beside him.

One of them, he looked so stern and serious, nodded. Despite the hardness of his expression, the boy could see something soft in the eyes that looked him over. "Prentiss, why don't you go in with him? You two dealt well before."

Almost instant panic hit. The boy stumbled back, his head shaking as his breath tore in and out of his chest. No, no, no! They couldn't send her in there! No!

Arms wrapped around him. The boy would have fought, but he smelled that scent that told him it was Garcia. It was enough to keep him from thrashing like a wild thing. She pulled him close, bringing his head down to cradle on her shoulder. "Shh, shh, sweet thing. Shh. It's ok."

"Can't…she can't…" The boy wheezed out his words, praying Garcia would understand, praying she would stop them. They couldn't send the pretty lady in with Master!

He almost sighed with relief when he heard Garcia whisper "I understand." Then she was shifting them, keeping him in her arms as she turned to the others. "Emily can't go in, Sir. He…he talked about the others, called them pretty ladies. Just like he called Emily."

All of them made the connection quickly. The boy saw it on their faces. Saw the sorrow that Emily had in her eyes. The serious man looked directly at him. "Is there someone you'd like in there with you? One of us needs to go, but I want you comfortable as possible."

He was being asked what he wanted? Actually being allowed to pick? The biggest part of him thought that it had to be a trick. It just had to. They'd probably let him pick and then force him to go with someone else. Wouldn't they? He gave another quiver in Garcia's arms before forcing himself to straighten up. Garcia looked like she trusted these people. Her smile said that she understood his thoughts. "Go ahead, sweetie. I trust them. You can too."

To everyone's surprise, the boy nodded before looking them all over and finally turning to stare at Morgan. "You." He finally whispered. He couldn't help but cringe for the blow he was sure to come.

It almost shattered Morgan to see that flinch on Reid's face. More than that, though, was that the kid had picked him. _Him_. The most muscled of the team; the one they would have all thought would be the most threatening figure to him. Yet Reid was looking at him and there wasn't fear in his eyes, not for Morgan. It took him a second to realize that the fear was because Reid had spoken and was waiting to be punished for it.

"Come on then, kid. Let's get this thing over with." Morgan teased him with a small smile.

He hesitantly reached a hand out to offer assistance. When Reid took a step back, Morgan froze. Then he remembered the tape. Vincent obviously didn't like people touching what was his. Men, at least. "It's all right, kid." He said soothingly. "Just head on over here."

The two men walked past their team, who were filing into the observation room. Morgan felt his insides twist at the thought of what they were about to do. He understood the logic in this, the benefits that would come, but he hated it. Hated letting Reid anywhere near the bastard that had hurt him like this.

Morgan stepped into the room first, putting Reid behind him. When Vincent looked past him, his face lighting up, it made Morgan's stomach churn. "Let me make one thing abundantly clear, Vincent." Morgan used his deadliest voice, cold and hard. "You hurt him in any way, we take him out. You try anything hinky and we take him out."

"Of course."

"And you tell us where the girl is."

"Naturally."

"I want the location. Now."

The smile that curved Vincent's lips was chilling. "So you can take the boy right back out of here, Agent? Tsk, tsk. You think I'm that foolish?" he taunted. Then his eyes drifted beyond Morgan again and over to Reid. "Come, boy."

There was no hesitation on Reid's part. He scooted around Morgan before the older man could even think about stopping him and moved directly to Vincent's side of the table. There he knelt down on his knees, head bowed, hands resting on his pant legs. Vincent chuckled softly. "Good boy."

"Thank you, Master."

A rattle of the chains had Morgan stepping forward and Reid cowering. But Vincent just scowled down at Reid. "Do. Not. Speak." He ordered. The only sign of life that Reid gave was a small tremble. Otherwise, he stayed perfectly still.

"A location, Vincent." Morgan drew his attention back over to him.

Vincent's smile was back, just lightly tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes stayed on Reid. "I see you gave the boy clothes. He knows the rules on this. I don't permit my property to wear clothing. But, I suppose I understand it this time. I can be lenient. See, I can be merciful. Isn't that right, boy? Tell the agent here how merciful I can be."

"You are kind and generous, Master." Reid replied immediately. "You are too merciful with me."

"Yes." Vincent stretched a hand out, his chains just long enough to allow him to touch Reid's hair. "I have been soft. We'll have to remedy that, boy. Isn't that right?"

"Yes, Master."

Taking another step forward, Morgan fought not to snatch Reid away from the monster. "Hands off, Vincent." He snarled. "Now, the location."

"So impatient, agent. I simply want to speak with the boy. As for the hair, well, I must admit his hair has always fascinated me. So soft and long. Silky, like a woman's hair. He doesn't mind, do you, boy?"

"No, Master."

"See?" Grinning, Vincent deliberately kept up his stroking of Reid's hair. "Now, boy, I want to know the truth. Now. Did you tell them about the women?"

Reid's body went slightly tighter. To the untrained eye he might have been still, but Morgan saw the tension in that small frame. "Yes, Master."

"Did you tell them how many there were?"

"Yes, Master."

"You know what to do, boy. I can't right now."

"Yes, Master."

Morgan yanked the empty chair away from the table, placing his hands palm down and bracing so that he could lean forward. "Enough games, Vincent. You got what you wanted. You only asked to see him. Now, tell us where she is!"

"So rude, Agent. Demanding things, yelling at me. Why, you haven't even introduced yourself. Such horrible manners." Vincent shook his head mockingly. "You know my name. Why don't you tell me yours?"

"Location first."

"Fine." Sighing, Vincent stroked Reid's hair once more. "A shack on the back end of the lot at 2671 Wiltshire drive. She's locked in there. She may even still be alive, if you're lucky. Now, Agent, do I at least get to know the pleasure of who I'm speaking with?"

Something seemed odd about the question, but Morgan saw no need _not_ to tell him. What harm could it do? "It's Agent Morgan."

Everything about Vincent went taunt. "Morgan?" He hissed out. The hand in Reid's hair suddenly went tight. "Agent Morgan?"

Shit. Though he didn't know what it was, Morgan knew something was going to happen. He darted forward, but not in enough time. Vincent used the fist in Reid's hair to slam his head into the table. The small man gave a soft cry. In an instant, Morgan had Reid up in his arms. Vincent screamed, trying to lunge in his chains and the room filled with cops.

The boy stared at his Master, terror gripping his insides. He let Morgan pull him back, watching his Master. "Don't you fucking touch him! Get your God damn hands off of him!" Vincent shrieked. One of the cops jostled the boy, breaking him out of Morgan's grip, almost knocking him to the ground.

Warm, strong arms closed around him, pulling him back. Laughter echoed through the room. It chilled him straight down to his soul. But, as he was pulled from the room inside of Morgan's arms, the boy finally realized what the new sensation was inside of him. What this man with the strong arms made him feel.

Safe.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N I Just have to say thank you to all my readers out there! Wow, I never expected so many responses to this story. I was worried some might find it a little dark or weird. I do tend to write weird lol. So, thank you for R&R you've made me feel so great about this story! Here's the next chap for you, still with Reid and Morgan, but I promise the next chapter will jump over to the rest of the team. :) Which, I'm hoping, I'll be able to add tonight. Yay!**

**Disclaimer - Don't own them. Warning: Violence, reference to violence, M rated for a reason. Not necessarily this chapter, but the general story. Oh, also, I don't have a beta so all mistakes are my own.**

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><p>Voices drifted around the boy, pulling at his mind, making him feel like he was being yanked this way and that. He tried to shut them out. <em>Focus. One thing at a time. Focus on one and the rest will slide away<em>. It had always worked in the past. If he focused his attention on one single thing then the rest of it slowly faded to the background.

First he focused on the warm feeling on the right side of his face. He was disoriented enough that it took him a moment to realize what it was. Blood. That was blood. Master had slammed his head hard into the table. Very, very hard. The boy closed his eyes tight, trying to think around it all, to focus on the wound. How bad was it?

Right side of his scalp. Best estimate, a split in his skin about four inches long. Bruising would appear around it, barely visible underneath his hair, and a knot would form. All in all, minor. Already his vision was starting to clear and his ears weren't ringing as much.

The internal examination only took a moment. After that, there was nothing he could find for a moment to work as a distraction from the voices shouting all around him. It looked like the police station had turned into total chaos.

The one steady thing that the boy realized was that Morgan was standing in front of him. At some point he'd been set down on this couch, but he'd been too disoriented at first to realize that Morgan had set him there. Now, though, he saw the big man standing in front of him in a way that the boy thought might almost be considered protective. But…what was he protecting?

A look around showed no one else on the couch with him. But, did that mean Morgan was protecting…_him_? That thought had the boy's mouth dropping open. He was always protecting the women from Master. No one ever protected him. _Ever_.

Suddenly a loud shout broke through the boy's thoughts and made it impossible for him to hide inside of his own head anymore. He heard one word that sent terror through him.

"Medic!"

_Oh God, oh God._

"Clear the way! Medic coming through!"

_No, no, no, nonononono._

"I said _clear the way_!"

The last time the medics had come, they'd taken him in the small box and to the hospital where people had poked him and prodded at him and wanted to look at him all over. They wanted to touch him and Master didn't want people touching him. They touched him in places that _hurt_ and said 'Sorry' with that look in their eyes that told the boy they weren't sorry at all. They didn't even see him. Just a body, just a patient; another one to move along.

Trembles ran uncontrollably up and down his body. He didn't want them touching him. No. _No_. It had been so hard to fight them at the hospital before. Then, somehow, he'd managed to keep them from touching him in places they weren't supposed to. He'd told them the sex was consensual, fought them so hard on it, and then they'd needed him back at the station, so no one had inspected him…_there_. But would they do it this time? He just knew they would. He couldn't let that happen. Where was Garcia? She wouldn't let them touch him!

Even as badly as his brain was spiraling, the boy still knew he was having a panic attack. But knowing and being able to stop it were two totally different things. He felt his breathing start to hitch in his chest; the world seemed to spin and blur a little. Lights flashed between dim and bright. His ears were ringing. Oh, God.

A hand touched him and he couldn't stop the blood curdling scream that somehow managed to gather enough air to rip its way up from his chest and out his mouth. His whole body flew sideways, scrambling to the corner of the couch. No!

It was hell, trying to get everyone to stay back. It seemed like every cop in the station wanted to step up and talk. At least, the ones that were still there. Aaron, Dave and Emily had gone with a bunch of the local cops to the address Vincent had given them to see if the girl was really there. That had left half a station of cops, Morgan, Garcia and JJ.

Over the back of the crowd, Morgan could see Garcia trying to make her way forward. Now paramedics had been added to the mix. All of them were asking questions, wanting to get close to Reid, and the poor kid was trembling so hard on the couch that Morgan could feel it against the back of his legs. What the hell did these cops think this was? A freak show? But something had sparked in the air and it wasn't letting go.

He'd taken Reid straight to the couch when they'd come out of the room. It had looked like the best place to set him down before getting medical supplies. But then all the questions had started and the panic and someone had called for an ambulance and it had all escalated from there.

Jesus, these people were lunatics! Couldn't a single one of them see how badly they were scaring Reid? Seriously? Morgan could see it. He planted his feet firmly, trying to get the bastards to back up.

One stepped a little too close, trying to move around Morgan's right side, toward Reid's head. What the officer thought he was doing, Morgan had no idea, but hell if he was going to just let the guy do anything. "Back off, man! Give the kid some space!" He snapped, leaning that direction. He didn't notice that one of the paramedics had used that advantage to dart around him and move toward Reid. Didn't notice it until he heard Reid's gut wrenching scream. The entire station went still and silent.

Not Morgan. He spun around to find Reid backed into a corner of the couch, shaking so hard he almost looked like he was having a seizure. A paramedic sat a cushion away from him, one hand half extended. There was only one thing that Morgan could think of to do. He pushed the paramedic's hand away, shocking the man, and dropped down onto the cushion that separated the two.

"I'm sorry, kid." He said soothingly. His voice echoed slightly in the quiet that surrounded them. It took everything he had not to simply reach out and fold his best friend straight into his arms. All he wanted was to shelter him from ever having to be hurt again. The blood on Reid's face served as a reminder of how many times he'd already failed him. "I didn't see him coming. I won't let him touch you, ok? Not till you're ready for it." Oh, how he hated to see Reid like this. Hated it like nothing else. He hadn't felt this helpless since he was a kid. Since Carl.

Quickly Morgan pushed that thought away. Now was NOT the time to be thinking like that. Right now he needed to think about Reid and only Reid. His young friend, his best friend, was wrapped as tightly around himself as he could go. His arms were up, hands cupping his head. But Morgan thought he saw one eye peeking out at him.

He took that as a positive sign. "That's right, kid. You can trust me. I know right now you may feel like you can't trust anyone, but you can trust me, ok? I won't let people hurt you."

"They can't touch me." Reid whispered the words so quietly that even with as close as they were, Morgan had to lean in slightly to hear him. "They…they try to touch me...t-t-there. They c-can't."

Understanding washed over Morgan. He'd read the records that had been brought from the hospital. Hell, he and the others had talked about how surprising it was that the rape test hadn't been done. Or that he hadn't been checked for serious internal damage in that region. But the physician had put in a note that said that the patient fought them on it, insisting that it wasn't rape, that it was consensual and eventually they'd been unable to simply force the test on him.

The poor kid must have been terrified it was going to happen now. Morgan had to take a shuddering breath to keep his control before he could speak again. "They just want to look at your head. That's all they want to do right now, ok kid?" He had to work not to say Spencer or Reid when he talked to him. It was hard. But he knew that Reid wouldn't respond to those names. To him, they weren't his name. And Morgan couldn't call him boy like Vincent had. So he fell back on the old nickname he had used for Reid all the time. Kid. It seemed to work.

"W-What if they t-t-try?" Reid stammered out.

"I won't let them."

Morgan's reply had been automatic and sincere. That must have showed in his tone because he saw Reid move his arm out of the way just enough to look at Morgan. Briefly the two men stared at one another. Then, so slight it was almost unnoticeable, Reid nodded his head.

It was a small victory, but it was a victory nonetheless. Morgan gestured to the paramedic to stand up and move around to look at Reid's head. When the man reached Reid's side, the small agent quivered and whimpered, shifting his weight toward Morgan. Automatically Morgan lifted his arm, not even thinking about it as he wrapped it around Reid and held him close. At least, not until he felt Reid jump against him.

_Oh, man._ He thought to himself. _What the hell did I just do?_

But once again, Reid surprised them. Surprised him. Instead of trying to pull away or starting to panic, he actually turned so that he was curled toward Morgan, only his bent legs between them. That perfectly opened the injured side of his head for the paramedic to work on.

Things stayed silent as the paramedic cleaned up the side of Reid's face and dabbed at the gash on his scalp. The silence was broken by the sound of a ringing phone. Morgan didn't bother glancing up. All of his attention was focused on the skinny man curled up against him. Every time the paramedic touched him, Reid would tremble or whimper, but he never moved and he didn't scream anymore.

When the medic touched a spot that must have been particularly sore, Morgan felt Reid quiver again, harder than ever. The kid turned his head a little further into Morgan's chest. The feeling that fluttered inside of Morgan was so powerful it almost took his breath away. Right after it came a surge of protectiveness, more so than ever before. He gave Reid a slight squeeze to try and reassure him. Words had dried up in his throat.

JJ's voice broke through the silence. "They found her." She announced to the room. "They found the woman. She'd already broken free of her cuffs and was working on shimmying out the window when they arrived."

Another moment of silence and then a babble of voices started up again. Excited exclamations and soft cheers echoed around them. Life came back to the station.

Morgan gave Reid a gentle squeeze as the paramedic put gauze on the smaller man's head before proceeding to start wrapping it. "You hear that, kid? She's alive. You helped save her life."

Unnoticed by everyone around him, a small tear of relief slid down Reid's cheek.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Ok so this is the section to explain what happened with the woman that they found. I felt it was necessary. To those that might not agree, sorry about that lol but I think it's needed. I know it kind of leaves off at the end of this chap on a funny note and I'm sorry about that but I was having a hard time finding where to stop. I promise, the questions you have at the end will most likely be answered in the next chap, which I hope to have up tonight or tomorrow.**

**Thanks so much for all your reviews, to those of you that do. Reviews are what keeps a writer going! I'm glad you guys like this and I hope you continue to read on and enjoy it. Hopefully I haven't ruined this story to anyone lol and you're hopefully still interested. :) Thanks for reading!**

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><p>Gripping tight to the handle above her window, Emily leaned slightly to keep her seat as the SUV whipped around yet another corner. "Do you really think she's going to be there?" She asked, turning her head to look at her Unit Chief. The hard lines to Aaron Hotchner's face seemed to be even harder than normal. Emily hadn't ever thought that would be possible.<p>

"It's the only lead we've got right now." Aaron said. His eyes never left the road. "We better hope she's there. _He_ better hope she's there."

Behind them, Dave grunted his agreement. None of them wanted to voice out loud the thoughts that were raging inside their minds. If this woman wasn't here, then they were all responsible for putting Reid back in with his attacker for no good reason. That thought was enough to make them cringe inside.

Each one of them had seen the worst that the world had to offer. They'd seen exactly how bad people could be. The things that men, women, even children could do to another human being. Yet, this was person to them. Spencer Reid wasn't the typical victim. They always hurt for their victims; if they didn't, they wouldn't be able to do their job. But it hurt so much more when it was someone you loved.

Not only that, but Reid was their youngest, the kindest, and at one time had been the most innocent. He'd worked hard from his first day at the BAU and had proved himself time and time again to be an intricate part of the team.

But beyond that, anyone who watched the team interact for a while could see how Reid was viewed by his teammates. He was their equal, yes, but at the same time, he was their sheltered one. Maybe it was because of his age, so young compared to them all, or his size, which made him appear even younger. Maybe it was that he was one of the smartest people they'd ever met, but he lacked some of the most simple social graces. Maybe it was his awkwardness around others, or his shyness that had still been there before he'd been taken. Or Maybe it was all of the above. One thing was abundantly clear, though. Every member of the team had always tried to look out for Reid and protect and shelter him as best as possible.

This kidnapping had made them all feel like failures. Each member was dealing with their guilt and grief in their own way. They'd spent too many years learning to lock away emotions on crime scenes and while talking to victims; it had spread over into their personal life. Those shields had started to crack when Reid went missing. Now that he was found, they were slowly breaking away, piece by piece.

It was evident in the way that Aaron's eyes would flash with more emotion than he'd ever allowed to show. It was there in the look that was on Dave's face each time that he stopped to think about what had been done. It showed in the slight tremble that kept trying to come out in Emily's hands, or the way her eyes kept trying to fill with tears. The emotion was there in JJ's tears and in the heartache that was written all through her. Garcia's showed in the fierce protectiveness she was displaying. And Morgan, his showed in the mood swings, the way he alternated from broken hearted to furious to calm and back again.

Emily laid her head back as all these thoughts ran through her mind. They may have found Reid, she realized, but the fight was nowhere near over. And it wasn't just Reid that was going to need to heal from here on out. It was the rest of them, too. All of them were going to need some time to recover from the last few years.

Her thoughts seemed to stop when she saw the property come into view. Everything emotional inside of her clicked off. She wasn't Emily Prentiss anymore. She was Agent Prentiss—and there was potentially a victim here.

The car parked abruptly and the three Agents were out in a flash. They all had their vests on already, prepared for any eventuality. Though their suspect was in custody that didn't mean that this area was safe. It was even more suspicious because of how easily they'd obtained the location.

Even as the police cars and the ambulance pulled up behind them, Aaron was already gesturing his team forward. They held their guns drawn as they moved across the grass and through the trees that lightly dotted the landscape.

Dave was the first one to notice the shack at the back of the property. "Here!" he called, gesturing with his hand. He ran forward, gun tight in his grip, moving through the last few trees until they opened before them.

The three Agents moved as a unit, covering one another as they moved closer, checking for danger all around them. They'd come up on the back of the building, so they moved carefully, preparing to circle around toward the door. Emily was the first to make the turn around the building. What she saw on the side made her stop in her tracks.

The top half of a woman was sticking out of a window. Her hands were placed on the wood on either side, working to help her push her way further out. Cuts and bruises dotted her arms and chest, as well as her face and back, all of which were visible. It was obvious that the woman was naked.

Reality kicked back in when she heard the woman hiss in pain. Emily came back to life, moving forward. "Ma'am…" That was all she managed to get out before the woman's head shot up, a scream already starting to push past her lips. Bruised eyes locked onto Emily, for the moment not really seeing her. Emily held her hands up and tried to present a calming image. "Ma'am, my name is Emily Prentiss. I work with the FBI. We're here to get you out of here."

Knowledge flashed in the woman's eyes. Some of the fear dwindled backwards. "FBI?" she croaked out. The sound of her voice had Emily wanting to wince. "Yes, Ma'am." She reassured her. Behind her she heard the other two agents as well as the cops, but she tried to give a gesture behind her back for them to stay back. She didn't think this woman would react well to seeing any males at the woman. "Ma'am, are you alone here? Is there anyone else here?"

The woman shook her head, her raven hair swaying around her as she did. "No, no. He's gone. I…I have to get free."

"That's what I'm here for, ma'am." Emily said. She took a cautious step forward, holstering her gun as she did. "Will you let me help you? You look injured."

After a moment of silence, a little more life came into the woman's eyes. She nodded. Emily was careful to move slowly when she stepped forward. Her hands hooked around the woman, trying to brace her at the armpits. To her surprise, the woman was extremely light. It didn't take much at all for the two of them to get her out the window. But once she was out, her legs seemed to give out. She slid down to the ground, her back against the wall.

"I need a medic over here!" Emily called out. Then she squatted down by the woman. When she saw movement out of the corner of her eye, Aaron moving forward with a few blankets in his hands, she smiled at him and took them.

Emily kept her voice gentle as she wrapped the blankets around the trembling, slight woman. "Can you tell me what your name is, ma'am?" She asked her.

The woman swallowed, her arms crossing over her stomach. Little trembles seemed to run up and down her even with the blankets that Emily had put on. With those blankets, it was a little easier for Emily to look at her. To look without having to see the marks all over this woman that obviously came from fists and belts and so many other things that no one wanted to think about.

"It's Cindy. Cindy Meyers."

The soft voice was barely able to be heard, but Emily caught it and gave the woman a smile. "Good, good, Cindy. Now, there's some paramedics on their way over. We're going to get you looked at and taken to the hospital, ok? We'll get you cleaned up and treated. Is there someone you'd like us to call for you? A family member?"

Just as Dave and Aaron led the paramedics over, Emily's words seemed to spark something in Cindy. Her eyes grew wide and her breath hitched. "Someone…" she whispered, almost to herself. Then, to everyone's shock, the fear on Cindy's face seemed to explode, growing beyond what they'd expected. "You have to help!" she cried, reaching out to grab Emily's hands.

Emily was startled, but she tried to keep her voice calm and soothing. "That's what we're here for, Cindy. We're here to help you, I promise you that."

"No! No, you don't understand! You have to help him!"

There was the sound of movement that warned them only seconds before Dave Rossi knelt down in front of Cindy. To all of their surprise, she didn't flinch away from him. Didn't even react to it except to turn her frantic, pleading eyes toward him.

"Him?" Dave said gently. "Who is he, Cindy?"

"The boy! You have to help the boy! Please!" she begged, tears falling down her cheeks. The tears weren't for her; they were for him. "Please, I told him I'd send help. Please, you've got to help him!"

Dave and Emily locked eyes before looking up to their leader. Aaron stepped forward, his commanding presence pulling the attention to him as it always did. "The boy at the house? His name is Spencer Reid and he's currently at the station with my other agents, ma'am. We've got him."

That seemed to be enough for Cindy. The last important thing that she'd needed to do. While paramedics swarmed around her, she dropped her head down onto her knees and sighed. If it wasn't for the paramedic and Dave, the woman would have toppled sideways as her body gave in to the stress it had been under and fell into the safety of unconsciousness.

Emily was the one to ride to the hospital with Cindy. She stayed with her as the paramedics brought her in, but then she was forced into the waiting room as the examination was done. Waiting wasn't exactly one of her favorite things to do. It left her mind too much time to wander. To think about things that she didn't really want to think about.

Images of Cindy kept popping up in her mind. The way the woman had looked as she'd been trying to climb out the window. The bruises that had peppered her entire body. It was obvious that she'd been beaten, severely. Physically, unless there was internal damage, her chances of survival looked high. But that was just physical. The mental part of things…

That thought invariably brought Emily's mind back to Reid. Just thinking of him tested her compartmentalizing skills to the extreme. In any other situation, with any of the victims and killers they'd dealt with over the years, she'd always been able to detach herself a little bit. To feel, yes, but not let it overwhelm her. In the privacy of her own home or over a bottle of something bubbly with Garcia and JJ, she let down her walls and grieved over those they'd seen. But she'd always been able to keep up her professionalism until she was alone. Not now.

Ever since they'd got the call that had told them Reid was alive, _alive_, she felt like she'd been battling back tears. Joy and heartache had equal places in her heart. Reid was alive! But…he wasn't the same man he had been. He'd lived through so much.

She didn't need Reid's eidetic memory to bring up perfect mental images of the marks she'd seen on her friend's body. No, not friend. Her brother. Because that's what Reid felt like to her. A younger brother she had always tried to take care of and watch out for. She realized that he'd been like that for everyone. To Aaron, he was like a son. To Dave, like a favorite nephew. To JJ and Garcia, he was like a son as well. To Emily, he was a younger brother. To Morgan, well, Emily had her opinions of that, though she'd never voiced them. Morgan acted like Reid was his brother on the outside, but anyone who had seen him over Reid's disappearance, anyone that knew him, would be able to see under the surface of that. There was feeling there, more than just a brotherly love.

That only made Emily's heart ache even more. Their lost one may have been found, but was he ever going to be the same again? He didn't even _recognize_ anyone but Garcia! Logically she knew that it was understandable that Reid suffered from a traumatic form of amnesia. It could be a defense mechanism to keep himself from hoping and hurting even more. But when he'd looked at her with that terrified look in his eyes, a look that showed he clearly had no idea who she was, she'd felt her heart start to break a little more.

That break had grown when Reid had come apart in Garcia's arms. Emily could still hear him saying _"…You have to get out of here, Garcia. You have to go now. Take the pretty lady with you…"_

God, even his voice sounded different! Emily wrapped her arms around her waist as she perched in the hospital waiting chair, her eyes staring unseeing out the window. Reid's words kept playing over and over in her mind.

He didn't sound like he used to. The Spencer Reid she knew had always sounded unsure of himself in normal conversation, at least until he started spouting out the facts and statistics that he was so fond of. There he was comfortable. He'd been afraid before, after the horrors he'd had to live with in his short life. They'd heard it in his voice once or twice. But he was so internal with those kinds of things that he typically tried to hide it from them.

But now, well, now he sounded like a terrified child. 'Child' was the key word here, Emily realized. Reid spoke like a child. His words were smaller than normal, not as sophisticated. He spoke with hesitation, when they could get him to speak at all, and he spoke in a way that Emily could only describe as 'dumbed-down'. Never had she thought she'd admit to missing hearing him ramble about the inaccuracies in movies or in statements that people made. That she'd miss the way he corrected peoples' grammar when they spoke incorrectly. But she did.

His physical wounds would heal, just like Cindy's would. But also like Cindy, what was inside was going to take a long time to heal. Emily just prayed that he one day, he'd be able to. That he might return to a semblance of the man he had once been.

"Cindy Meyers?"

The cool voice broke into Emily's thoughts. She forced herself to push away the internal pain. To do her job.

Her feet were steady and her face was composed when she rose to her feet. "I'm Agent Emily Prentiss." She introduced herself, showing her ID to the female doctor that stood before her in green hospital scrubs. "I'm the one that rode in with her. How is she?"

The short woman looked at Emily's badge before giving a slight nod. She barely came up to Emily's shoulder, and her short cropped red hair gave her an almost pixie like look, but the doctor had a commanding presence to her that actually reminded Emily a little of Aaron.

"Ms. Meyers in recovering nicely in her room. Her right wrist was broken, but we've casted that now. There were two cracked ribs and we've done what we can for her to set those towards healing. Otherwise, she's a lucky young woman. The bruises and cuts are her body are minor and should heal in no time. There was no internal damage. We stitched a cut on the back of her head where it appears she was struck by a blunt object, but I'd guess it's days old. She's showing no current signs of a concussion. We've got her on pain medication to keep her comfortable."

"Was a rape kit performed?"

The doctor nodded. "Yes. Thankfully, it came back negative. She stressed that she wasn't raped and our tests confirmed it, thank God. It was hard enough to get her to talk to us. She's been demanding to speak with the police since she woke up."

That had Emily quirking an eyebrow. Seeing that, the doctor sighed. "Apparently there's someone, a boy, she feels is in danger. That's the only reason I'm letting you in right now. Otherwise, we'd like to sedate her and allow her body to rest. That's the thing she needs the most right now."

Understanding washed through Emily and she gestured for the doctor to lead the way to Cindy. In minutes, Emily found herself in the girl's hospital room. Underneath the bright hospital lights and in the crisp white sheets, Cindy looked worse than she had outside the house. The bruises on her face seemed darker, one of them almost swelling her eye shut. But those eyes locked on Emily almost the instant she was in the room.

"Hi, Cindy. Remember me? I'm Agent Prentiss; I was one of the ones that found you." Emily said gently as she stepped into the room. She kept her voice calm and her posture easy as she stepped up to the bed; not too close so as not to startle the girl. That apparently wasn't necessary. Cindy reached out with her good hand, grasping Emily's in hers.

"Please." The girl begged in a hoarse voice. "Please, the boy. You need to help the boy."

For a second Emily had to battle back the lump in her throat. She needed to be professional. Do her job. "I think you're talking about Spencer Reid." She finally said. She held tightly to the girl's hand, trying to reassure her with the physical contact. "Taller, skinny man, unkempt brown hair? Big eyes?"

"Yes, yes! Him!"

"Ma'am, he's at the station right now. We have him."

Tension seemed to suddenly drain from Cindy. "You have him?"

"Yes."

"Oh, thank God. You got him free. I told him I'd send him help. I promised him I would. That poor, poor boy."

As much as Emily hated to do it, she knew she had to do her job. She had to. "Do you think you could answer a few questions for me, Cindy? Talk to me a little about what happened? You don't have to if you're not ready to do it right now."

"No, no! I want to. I want you to be able to lock that bastard up where he belongs."

"Ok." Shifting, Emily took a seat on the chair beside the bed, making herself comfortable. She made is if to move her hand, but Cindy just held on tighter. So Emily adjusted so that she could still sit and look at the girl while holding her hand at a comfortable angle. From her pocket she pulled out a small recorder that she'd brought with her, just in case. She set it up to record their conversation. "Can you tell me what happened to you the day you went missing?"

"That…that part of things still seems a little foggy." Cindy started slowly. Her voice stayed soft. There was something in her eyes, a distant look that Emily thought was partially the morphine she'd been given and part her being lost in memories. But the Agent said nothing; just let her go at her own pace. "I, well, I remember getting up and starting my morning. Brushing my teeth, eating breakfast, all that kind of stuff. I remember going out of my apartment and then it just kind of goes blank."

The question in her eyes was obvious. Here, Emily filled in the gaps. "If he's anything like with the previous victims, it would indicate that he blitzed you. Your injuries suggest he came up behind you and struck you on the back of the head with something blunt. It's totally understandable that you don't remember that part of things."

Pain flashed over Cindy's features. She leaned back just a little into her pillow without ever letting go of Emily's hand. Before Emily could suggest letting her rest, the woman continued with her story.

By the time she was done, Emily felt sick to her stomach. But she stayed there as the pain medication finally sucked the woman back down into the healing waves of sleep. Once she was sure she was out, Emily Prentiss rose to her feet to take the statement back to her co-workers. She had no idea how they were going to react to hearing this.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry it took me a little while to update! I had a hard time with this chapter and I just couldn't seem to get it right. Still not sure if it came out the way I wanted it to, but I think it might have. It's just a little longer than normal, so hopefully you all like that (wink wink)**

******This chapter contains physical violence, mentions of rape, things like that. Usual warnings. Flashbacks as well, which are in italics :) Hope that part came out ok.**

**Oh, and just like normal, I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters. Sadly :P**

* * *

><p>It hadn't surprised Morgan to discover that Reid had passed out by the time the paramedic was done with his head. No, not at all. What had surprised him was that Reid had passed out against <em>him<em>. Not only that, but he wasn't breaking the contact as he slept, either. Even when Garcia came up and sat on the edge of the couch near him, reaching out to touch his arm. No, Reid simply stayed where he was, curled into Morgan's side, making so little sound that they would have wondered if he was alive if it wasn't for the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

"He trusts you." Garcia whispered softly. Her voice was almost quiet enough to not be heard over the hustle and bustle of the station around them. But Morgan did hear it. His eyes flashed up, locking on to hers. No words would come. She smiled at him. "Even though he doesn't remember anyone, his instincts trust you, handsome. Some part of him, somewhere in there, knows that he used to trust you with his life. He's listening to that instinct now."

The thought of that made Morgan almost lightheaded. Yet at the same time he could practically feel himself inflating with the pride it gave him. Spencer Reid trusted him. Him! Even after the hell he'd lived through, even after no one finding him for so long, even though he didn't remember anyone but Garcia, there was something left over of their bond buried in there. Garcia was right. Part of Reid remembered the bond they had shared and was relying on it.

"I won't let anything happen to him."

Those words slid out before Morgan even realized he was saying them. He heard the hard edge to his own voice; a desperate sense of protectiveness. He had failed his best friend before. That wasn't something he was going to let happen again.

Garcia reached over, laying her hand on his leg as she had so many times before. "I know."

Those two words were more reassuring than anything that anyone else could have said. The others would have picked up on the guilt he felt, that he'd felt since the day Reid disappeared, and they would have tried to tell him how this wasn't his fault. They would have tried to make him feel better. But not Garcia. No, she knew him too well for that.

For a while the three of them sat together, a unit there on that police station couch. No one dared to come bother them. Morgan felt his eyes slide closed and tried to fight against it, but somehow he ended up being sucked down into sleep. He realized it when something touched his arm and his eyes shot open to see that the light outside the station was gone. It was night. Man, how long had he been asleep?

Abruptly he remembered what had woke him. Looking over, he saw Emily standing beside him. "Hey, sleepy head." She said teasingly. There was something in her eyes though that had Morgan going completely still. A small hint of heartache hidden in the backs of those deep eyes. "What is it?" he asked.

Emily sighed softly. "I took the woman's statement. Cindy. I…I think you guys all need to hear this. Away from Reid."

Now, that didn't sound good. Morgan felt his breath shudder in and out of his chest as he gathered his control to himself. No, this wasn't going to be good. This woman had been held captive and abused. Not only that, but by the same man that had held Reid. Most likely her statement was going to have some mention of Reid in it. How on earth was he going to handle hearing this?

There wasn't any choice. He had to hear it. All of them did. They wouldn't be able to ignore this or walk away from it. Even knowing that it would hurt, they would all gather to hear this woman's statement.

He turned is head to look at Garcia, who still sat perched on the couch by Reid. Without words he asked her to take care of Reid and watch over him. Her eyes just as expressive, she gave her agreement. The two knew each other perfectly. Gently they made the transfer, Morgan standing and Garcia sliding into his seat, her arm wrapping around Reid and holding him close. The small man whimpered, but he didn't wake.

Now that he was assured that those two were ok, Morgan turned and nodded at Emily, indicating that he was ready to follow her. He didn't think he could speak right at that moment. Too many thoughts were in his brain to put anything into words. All of this had him thrown far out of his realm of understanding. He was floundering here; they all were. But they had to do the best they could.

When Emily led him into a small conference room, the others were already waiting. JJ, Aaron, Dave. In the center of the room was a table and, on top of that, a small tape recorder.

It seemed that everyone else was having the same problem that Morgan was. No one said a word as Emily shut the doors, or as Dave turned the blinds until they were closed. Only a small lamp lit the room. But, even though they didn't speak, they gathered close together, this little family that was forged tight by the bonds they shared.

Aaron took a deep breath before he reached forward to press the play button. His arms dropped to his sides, where JJ instantly reached out and took his hand. Emily had a hold of her other one. Then Emily was reaching for Morgan, drawing him into this group, and Morgan felt Dave's hand settle on his shoulder. All boundaries were dropped as a woman's shaky voice filled the room. They knew they were going to need one another for this.

Emily's voice was the first one to fill the room. "Can you tell me what happened to you the day you went missing?"

"That…that part of things still seems a little foggy." Cindy said softly. "I, well, I remember getting up and starting my morning. Brushing my teeth, eating breakfast, all that kind of stuff. I remember going out of my apartment and then it just kind of goes blank."

"If he's anything like with the previous victims, it would indicate that he blitzed you. Your injuries suggest he came up behind you and struck you on the back of the head with something blunt. It's totally understandable that you don't remember that part of things."

"I woke up in this horrible little room." Cindy said shakily. There was a tremor to her voice that told them how hard this was for her, as well as a slightly hazy sound that came from her pain medication. "He was kicking me to get me to wake up. There was this funny sound that I didn't recognize. All I could focus on was the kicking. He was yelling at me to get up, to wake up. When he saw I was awake, he grabbed my hair and yanked me to my feet. I…I remember his eyes. They were so cold."

Her words wove a spell over them all, drawing them into her story, transporting them to her memories.

"He told me I was his now. That I was his property. When I tried to say something, he hit my face. Then he told me his name was Vincent and that I was going to take care of the downstairs for him while he was busy. That I was going to act like a proper woman should and care for his house. And if I didn't, he swore to beat me. I was scared but I was angry too. I asked him what would happen if I didn't care about being beaten by him. I refused to be his play toy. I know it was stupid. I don't know what came over me….

_**"You think you can resist me?" Vincent snarled. His hand darted out, fisting tight in her hair until she wanted to scream. "You care so little about what happens to you that you'd stand here and disobey me?"_

"_I'm no one's property." She forced herself to say. Her death was written in his eyes; she could see it there clearly. But if she was going to die, it wasn't going to be down on her knees, groveling. It was going to be with her spine straight and her pride intact. "Just kill me already, you sick bastard."_

_To her surprise, Vincent laughed. "Oh, I won't kill you. But by the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging for death, woman."_

"_I won't do what you want." She said defiantly. Though his threat terrified her, she wasn't going to give in to him. She would not bow down to this man._

"_I think you will. See, I have a little leverage here. You women are always the same. What works for one, works for all. And I found this particular bit of leverage works wonderfully."_

_A solid punch connected with her stomach, dropping her to her knees as he let go of her hair. While she was gasping for breath, she heard him moving away from her, moving toward the other side of the room. If she could just get her breath back than she could make a mad dash for the stairs. It was a futile hope, she knew. He'd catch her before she got free. But she had to try._

_Just as the air came back into her chest and she thought she might be able to rise, she heard another sound that made her blood freeze. A sound of flesh hitting flesh and then a sharp cry. Oh, God. He had someone else down here! She raised horror filled eyes, unable to move, unable to look away as her captor brought someone out of the shadows and into the light._

_Cindy had thought she couldn't be any more scared or horrified than she already was. She was wrong. The horror in her grew even more when she saw Vincent dragging a naked man over by his hair. What made it worse was the obvious pain the boy was in. It looked like every inch of his body was different shades of bruises, broken by cuts here and there. Blood was dripping from different parts of this boy. This was his leverage? This half dead kid?_

_Then Vincent forced the boy to his knees, gripping his hair to tip his head up, and Cindy got her first glimpse of the boy's face. The first look into the boy's eyes and she knew she was lost. She knew she would do anything Vincent asked her to._

_Though the body looked like that of a boy, a young man really, his eyes looked ancient. Wide, almost taking up his whole face, and full of so much. Pain, yes. Fear. But what broke her heart was the…resignation she saw there. The acceptance of this horror he lived in._

"_You like my boy?" Vincent snarled. He released the boy's hair, snapping and pointing down. The boy moved to his knees, bowing his head and placing his hands on his thighs. Cindy knew that position had to hurt him. But the boy made not a sound. "He's my special pet, aren't you, boy?"_

"_Yes, Master."_

_A shiver ran down Cindy's spine. The boy sounded almost…dead._

"_See, woman, this is the leverage I told you about. Because my boy here knows what's expected of him. He understands what he's supposed to do. If you mess up at all, he will tell me, and not only will I punish you, I'll punish him too. Every time you resist me, I'll beat you. Then I'll make you stand here while I beat him. If you leave, I will kill him."_

_Cindy couldn't stop herself from shuddering. "Don't hurt him." She found herself whispering. Her eyes were locked on that already abused body. No, she couldn't let this man hurt him. No, no._

"_He knows his punishments are deserved, don't you boy?"_

"_Yes, Master."_

"_Tell her. Tell her how you deserve this. Tell her how I saved you."_

"_Master saved me. Master is the only one who can take care of me. I'm a bad boy. I need Master to make me better, to punish me."_

_Vincent's smile grew. "See? He's mine, so don't think you'll be convincing him to leave me. He loves me, don't you, boy?"_

"_Boy loves Master."_

_The way the boy parroted his lines had Cindy's stomach rolling. She couldn't speak. When Vincent ordered her to her feet, she stood. What else could she do? She couldn't let the man kill this boy. She shuddered again when Vincent cuffed her hands to a pole behind her._

_Her eyes grew wide when he snapped at the boy and pointed to the center of the room. Instantly the boy moved, standing perfectly still in the middle of the room, his head bowed. Cindy saw something dangling over the boy's head and the nausea in her stomach grew. Those looked like chains._

_A moment later the boy was lifting his arms and hooking the cuffs to his wrists. When he was perfectly shackled, Cindy watched with horror as Vincent grabbed a three lashed whip from a table. When he stepped over by the boy, raising his arm, Cindy couldn't stop herself from crying out. "Don't! I'm not resisting you! I did what you wanted!"_

"_But you didn't before." Vincent said slyly. He obviously took great pleasure out of what he was about to do. "And he's been a naughty boy today. Maybe this will show you that I mean what I say, for future reference."_

_Then, without another moment's warning, he sent the whip crashing against the boy's back, eliciting a sharp scream from the boy's bruised lips. Tears streamed down Cindy's cheeks…***_

"He whipped him for so long, I have no idea what the time was." Cindy's voice had started to quiver again. She paused to regain her breath. Trembles ran down the line of people that stood there, clenching tight to their 'family' as they listened to this woman's horrific account.

"It's ok, Cindy. Take your time."

"No, I need to say this. Now." Cindy's voice firmed slightly. "When he was done with the boy, he beat me and raped me, right there on the ground where the boy lay, so I could see the whole time what happened when I disobeyed him. When he was done, he dragged the boy toward the wall and shackled his ankle. Me, he left loose. He knew I wouldn't leave, not without the boy too. I just knew he'd kill him if I left. I couldn't be responsible for that. After a while, I managed to move a little, to open my eyes and look around. Vincent was gone…

***_A soft sob tore its way out of Cindy's chest. Now that Vincent was gone, she let some of her emotions out. Let the pain that was radiating through her body finally bring the tears that had been burning her eyes for so long._

"_There's water on the table." The boy's soft voice broke through her haze of pain. She lifted her eyes, looking to where he sat against the wall, knees up, arms wrapped around his knees. His eyes were just barely visible behind a screen of hair. "You need to drink, keep hydrated."_

_Cindy tested her body, discovering that she could move, even if it did hurt. Carefully she rose, wincing as her body screamed at her. But she made herself walk over to the table. Sure enough, there were bottles of water there. She didn't hesitate to open one and wet her throat with it. It tasted like heaven._

_When half of it was gone, she looked back over to the boy. He hadn't moved a muscle. "Would you like some?" she asked him, her voice slightly hoarse. The boy instantly shook his head._

_Carefully, Cindy moved toward him. "Are you ok?" She found herself asking, even though she knew the answer. "I'm sorry he hurt you."_

"_Master loves me. Master is kind to me." The boy spoke words she could tell had been branded into his brain. This poor, poor boy._

"_But he beats you." She couldn't stop herself from pointing that out._

_The boy trembled slightly. "Master loves me. I was a bad boy. Master was just teaching me."_

"_But…"_

"_You should do what Master wants, or he'll hurt you." The boy cut her off. His eyes moved toward the floor. "Master will be mad if he finds this mess. It's usually my job, but Master says that the pretty ladies have to do it when they're here. I get to talk to you only to tell you your jobs, then we're not supposed to talk. Master doesn't like the pretty ladies talking to his boy."_

_The terror at the end of that sentence was enough to have Cindy ready to do anything to keep this boy from being hurt. "What do I do?"_

"_Clean. Master wants it clean. He likes my blood, but not dried on the floor or on his tables. He doesn't give us the key to the tools, he cleans those, but the rest of it…They have to be clean. There's water of there," He raised his hand, pointing to a small room at the back of this room. "And a mop and rags. No chemicals. Nothing sharp. It's your job now, you're the new pretty lady."_

"_The new pretty lady?" She grew even more afraid now. There had been others? That thought was just sinking in._

"_There were others. But they made Master made. He…he hurt them."_

"_Oh God, he killed them. He's going to kill me, isn't he?"_

_Those haunting doe eyes turned up toward her, gripping her in place as the boy shook his head. "Master doesn't kill them." The boy whispered brokenly. True pain was in his words now. It was evident in how his body trembled. "I do."_

_What? "What?" No. There was no way this beaten, bruised man here was capable of killing someone! But she thought again of how easily the boy, the man, had listened to Vincent and she felt her blood freeze in her veins. "What?"_

"_I kill them." The boy held his hands out, looking at his palms. They were trembling. "Master hurts them, over and over, and brings them to me. He makes them lay with me while they bleed. He tells me I can kill them. I don't want to. I don't!" His voice broke for just a moment on the last word. "In the end, they beg me. They beg me to kill them. They can't take any more pain and they know they won't get free. He keeps beating them, keeps bandaging them so they stay alive a little longer. In the end, they beg me to help them. To help them die."_

_Tears were now traveling down the boy's cheeks, bright red with blood. Cindy couldn't move as she listened to this boy's horror story._

"_They beg, they plead. Anything. They can't take it. And they tell me I can end it for them. How can I let them hurt, knowing I can help them? Knowing what they want? Some die on their own, most do, but some don't. They beg me to do it. So I kill them."_

_The boy rocked, his hands suddenly flying to his head, slapping his palms against his forehead. Agonized cries slipped past his lips. Cindy couldn't restrain herself anymore. She couldn't stop herself from running over to him and grabbing his hands, stopping him from hitting himself. "Oh, honey, oh no. No." she cried, gripping his hands. He tried to get free, but she wouldn't let go._

"_Honey, that's not your fault. Honey, it's not you. No." She insisted. In an instant she could see this boy's life, see the pain he'd lived in, see what he had been forced to do. It made her heart ache and bleed inside of her. "Oh, you lost little boy. Oh." She rested her forehead on her knees as the both of them cried.***_

"I didn't get to talk with him after that." Cindy was saying. "Vincent beat us if we tried. He'd rape him in front of me. Once, I tried to talk to him when Vincent was gone, tried to make sure he was ok, and Vincent came downstairs in a rage. He hit my face, knocked me down and…and raped me. Then he told me to lay still on my back. He made the boy kneel over me so our faces were close. He, God, he beat him with a belt and raped him while he was on all fours. I don't know how he's alive."

"He is alive." Emily said soothingly. Her voice held just a hint of strain for those who knew her. "We have him safe at the station surrounded by officers and FBI agents. I promise you, he's alive."

"He saved my life."

"What?"

"Right before Vincent took me, he got word that there might be a raid on his house. He was furious. Didn't pay as much attention as normal, I guess. I don't know how the boy got it, but he gave me a paper clip and told me to put it in my hair. In the back, underneath, where he wouldn't find it. He told me he'd make Vincent mad so he'd come back and hurt him so he wouldn't stay around after he hid me. We knew he was going to hide me. He said I could make it straight and pick the locks, that he'd keep Vincent busy to give me time to get free." A soft sigh slid past Cindy's lips. Her voice was fading slightly. "He wouldn't free himself to go with me. Vincent was coming, so I put it in my hair. I told him I'd send help. Then…" Her voice paused, grew quieter. "…when I was there…when he was gone…I got it and got free. I got free…"

Silence filled the room. Emily leaned forward, pressing the button to stop the tape. The team still stood there, staring. It was JJ who finally spoke. "Dear God."

"He was telling the truth." Aaron spoke softly. His words drew their eyes. They saw the pain on that usually stoic face. "Vincent didn't kill those women."

Cindy's words echoed back at them. Reid had killed those women. Had been left with women begging him to kill them until he couldn't take it anymore and put them out of their misery. Granted them that final request.

"God." Dave breathed out. "What we thought we were facing was bad enough. How the hell is he going to recover from something like that? Reid…it's going to destroy him."

"If it hasn't already." Aaron agreed.

Morgan couldn't believe it. He felt like he needed to throw up. This bastard had broken Reid in so many fucking ways! How on earth were they ever going to heal the kid from all of this? "No judge in the world will prosecute him for this." He said furiously.

Four sets of eyes drifted to him in surprise. None of them had thought that far ahead. Aaron actually paled. "They might try." He said. "God, they might. He's their killer."

"He's not a killer!" Morgan cried. He felt Emily's hand tighten in his and Dave's grip on his shoulder became firmer. "He's a broken man who was beaten every day for almost two years and forced to watch other women beaten. They convinced him to help them!"

"We know, Morgan." Dave tried to reassure him. "We aren't going to let him go down for this. None of us are."

"He's right. I can make a few calls, talk to some judges. Maybe see what I can do to get him cleared on this." Swiping a hand over his face, Aaron sighed. "He'll probably have to testify at the trial. He'll have to recount to someone how he killed them. For now this is just assumption. It's ambiguous. We need facts first. Then, we'll see about getting him the best lawyer we can find."

Emotion clogged Morgan's throat. He looked around at his team, knowing they were all wondering the same thing he was. _How the hell were they going to heal Reid from this?_


	10. Nightmares

**Sorry it took me so long to post this. It took a while to get out! Also, there were some of you that had a question about innacuricies in what I'd written. I hope this chapter answer those questions and makes sense to all of you. As always, I love you reviews! Thank you to all who have favorited my story and me! It is wonderful. Also, please, review review review! I love hearing feedback, both good and bad! Anything! LoL Am I shamelessly begging for reviews? Why, you guessed it! I can't help myself :) They make me so happy. Next chapter I'll try to answer some reviews at the end of it for those that keep faithfully reviewing my story. Thanks again!**

**Any mistakes are my own. Don't bother suing me, I don't own CM or anything involved with them. Plus, you really wouldn't get much out of me. Maybe cookies. I like to bake :)**

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><p>Morgan stared at the wall, unable to break his thoughts free from everything that had just played on that tape. He paid no attention to the oppressive silence that seemed to surround them all. None of them knew what to say right then. There were so many new facts, so many horrible images in their minds. Images they knew they would never be able to get rid of.<p>

"The medical information you gave me indicated that a rape kit was performed and came back negative." Aaron's voice suddenly broke into the tense silence. All eyes turned toward him, but he was looking at Emily. "That she denied being raped. Yet, here she clearly states she was."

Their Unit Chief's mind was going into work mode; trying to catalogue the information he'd been given. All of them knew that Aaron dealt with his stress through work. It wasn't callous, as they had all once thought. It was a defense mechanism. He, as their leader, felt that he couldn't be as free to break down. He couldn't show as much emotion as the rest of them. So he channeled all his feelings into his work. It made him a damn good Agent, but it came with a cost. Everyone needed to vent from time to time. Bottling things up wasn't healthy.

Emily nodded, her expression looking more broken than Morgan could ever remember seeing it. Usually Emily was just as good as Aaron as keeping her feelings under control. But this whole situation seemed to be taking her walls down, brick by brick, revealing the gentle heart she hid underneath.

"There was nothing to indicate rape." Emily explained. "But they ran the initial test just to be cautious. When I spoke to the doctor after the interview, she told me that they'd only tested Cindy for a vaginal rape. Partially because that is what's most common for a female. Also because she denied it and, when they were doing their test, there were no signs of anything that indicated anal rape. After talking with the doctor, though, they went back in her room. I got the call as I came in the station here that there were internal signs of anal rape, but that they'd healed over. Most likely they were a few days old."

How on earth could they have run a rape kit and not done a complete check? Morgan stared at her, shocked. How could the doctors not have done this right?

Rossi's hand was still on his shoulder. He gave a comforting squeeze as he said "That was probably intentional on her part, only letting them do half the test. You can't force a victim to submit to testing."

Wiping her tears, JJ cleared her throat. It was obvious that she was trying to push her emotions down as well and failing miserably at it. Her voice was just shy of steady. "Why would he anally rape her? Isn't that uncommon for offenders to do on their female victims?"

"Not necessarily. If he's a homosexual trying to convince himself he's straight, this could be how he makes it work. Or he could be trying to go for the most painful route possible. Men like him get off on causing as much pain as they can." Emily added.

It was just all a little too much. Morgan didn't know if he could just stand here and discuss this while Spencer was sitting out there, sleeping against Garcia. He didn't know if he could think on all this when his brain was still so full of the words Cindy had spoken. How had his pretty boy survived this? How could anyone survive something like this? It was no wonder that he wasn't quite all the way there! The horrors he'd lived through, none of them could begin to comprehend. The strength it must have taken to survive as long as he had survived was immense.

"I'm going to take him to the hotel." Morgan broke into the conversation. He felt their eyes turn to him and met each gaze with a steady look. "Unless he's being arrested, I want to take him to the hotel. Get him cleaned up, in some fresh clothes, and let him sleep."

JJ looked doubtful. "Morgan…"

"What?"

His snapped response had her blanching for a moment before she firmed her spine. "It might not be as simple as that. He…he needs help. He should be with doctors who can help him. Psychologists."

"He trusts absolutely no one but Garcia and maybe me a little and you want to send him to a bunch of shrinks in a hospital? They don't know him like we do! They won't understand him. He'll just be more terrified, more isolated, and we could end up losing him to his own mind!" Morgan argued furiously with her. There was no way he was going to let them lock Spencer up! He wasn't going to leave him now that he'd found him. They were the ones who were crazy if they thought that!

To his surprise, Rossi stepped up in his defense. "Morgan's right." He told the room. "I'm not saying we shouldn't get him help. We should. We will. But right now, trust is a fragile thing for him. If we're going to not only pull him back out of this, but get him to cooperate with any doctors, we need to build that trust. Morgan and Garcia are the two he trusts the most right now. Garcia is the only one he remembers. I think the three of them should share a hotel room. Try to pull back the Spencer Reid we all know and love."

"I agree." Aaron added in. That was enough for the rest of them. The word of their boss was what held the most sway here. Not that Morgan cared. He would have done it, regardless. But he was glad to have his team backing him.

A voice broke into their room, muffled by the closed door. But it was clear enough for them all to recognize it as Garcia screaming out "Morgan!"

In a flash Morgan was across the room, yanking open the door and darting out.

"_Scream for me, boy. I love hearing your screams."_

_He did just that, screams echoing in the small room. Echoing so loud he felt as if they would vibrate his bones. Shake his very soul. The pain was excruciating. Master was going to kill him this time. He had made him so mad; he was going to actually kill him._

_The belt snapped down onto his back again, overtop one of the fresher knife wounds. The explosion of agony almost had him blacking out. He felt as if he'd gone blind and deaf underneath it. He didn't even hear his own scream. But he felt it in his throat. Felt the harshness that was left behind._

_Laughter was the first thing he heard. At least his ears were working again._

"_That's right, boy. You have the most beautiful screams. You know you like this. You wouldn't disobey me if you didn't like it, isn't that true?"_

_No, no! He wasn't trying to disobey! He wasn't._

_Another whistle of the belt through air. Agony. Laughter._

_The belt was around his neck suddenly. He felt it moving and then it was cinched tight, like a collar. His hands were unhooked, letting his body drop to the ground. Hands on his hips pulled him to his knees. Then the belt was being pulled, cutting off his air, and the familiar sensation started in his backside as he felt his Master roughly enter him._

'_Someone, help me!' his mind screams at him. He doesn't have the air to speak it out loud. 'Please! Help me!' He didn't want this anymore. He didn't want to hurt. Was tired of the pain that had become his daily companion._

_But there was no one to help him. No one was going to come for him. There was only him and Master._

_In the back of his mind he felt something rattle; that forbidden place that he never let himself think of. There was only pain there. Only heartache. He no longer knew what was there but he knew that it hurt. Yet, as he silently begged for someone to save him, that place gave another rattle, like something was trying to break free from the mental box he'd put it in._

_He tried not to think of the pain that came from the familiar violation. He tried to breathe despite the belt on his throat. He even tried to ignore the hand that was running down his injured back, painting with his blood. It wasn't working._

'_Help me.' His mind whispered. Was there no one in the world who loved him? Had he always been Master's boy? It was all he could remember. But, no, there was something else. That little box in his mind rattled even harder. For just one instant, it opened, the pain of it flooding him, hurting him far worse than anything that was being done to his body._

_He cried out, shoving those thoughts back where they belonged. Shoving the hurt down as far as he could and locking it up as tight as possible. But not before one thing came to mind. One name that slid from his lips before he could stop it. "Morgan." It was like a sigh, soft and sweet. He didn't know who Morgan was, didn't remember knowing anyone by that name. Hell, he didn't know anyone but Master. But that name, just saying it out loud like that, brought a swell of emotions into his heart. It was like sunshine on a cloudy day. Food to a starving man. Water on the desert that was his soul._

_Lost in those sensations, he almost didn't notice when the rape stopped. But he was drawn back to the present when the belt around his neck was yanked so tight he couldn't draw breath. He was choking, dying. Master was going to kill him._

"Kid!"

_Who was that screaming? Was there a kid here? Oh, please no, please don't let there be a child witnessing this. The boy brought his hands up, trying to pull on the belt, trying to draw air._

"Reid! Come on, man! Come on, kid!"

_Reid? Who was Reid?_

_Hands were on his shoulders, shaking him, intensifying the pain. Please, stop. The words moaned in his mind. Slowly his brain was going blank, his vision going dark. He couldn't breathe!_

"Dammit, kid! Wake up!"

_Wait, he knew that voice. Why was he here? Was he going crazy? Was the loss of oxygen to his brain making him hallucinate now? Wait. How did he know this man? Where had he seen him before? The world was starting to fade around him. The pain in his throat lessened and the hands on his arms were pulling his attention forward. His world felt all out of focus._

"Come on, come on. Come back to me. That's it. I'm right here. This is Morgan touching you. Morgan's hands. Can you feel me? Wake up, kid."

With one startling gasp, that was what the boy did. His eyes shot open, staring unseeing for a moment. He was stuck in that instant between the world of his dreams and the world he was in. The only thing that felt real, solid, was the hands touching his arms. Hands that weren't hurting him. Like Garcia's touch, this one didn't hurt, didn't inflict pain. It wasn't demanding or unwanted.

Before he could think about it, the boy looked up into the eyes of the dark man kneeling in front of him. Reality sank in as he stared into those eyes. He felt the couch against his body. Hear the sounds of the station around him. That's right. He wasn't home. Master wasn't here. He was at a police station and he'd been sleeping on the couch. This was all a dream. It had only been a dream.

A strangle sound came from somewhere. It took the boy a moment to realize that it had come from him. He was the one that had made that sound. Then another one came. He recognized it this time as the sob ripped past his lips.

For so long he had lived in a world of pain. In a place where every touch brought hurt and dominance and the promise of more pain. But the warm hands holding his arms weren't hurting him. They were offering something he was terrified to take. Something that made the little box in the back of his mind give a huge rattle. They offered solace and safety.

Before he could even think about it, before he gave himself time to talk himself out of something he knew would only cause him more hurt later, the boy shoved off of the couch and launched himself forward, into a pair of arms that automatically caught him and clutched him close.

Instead of feeling his usual terror and pain, he felt nothing but safety and warmth. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever felt. Even though he knew he didn't deserve it, he was a bad boy and he deserved the pain and punishment, he couldn't bring himself to move away. No, he clung tighter, arms winding around Morgan's neck, his face burying against him. He felt Morgan's chin rest on top of his head and then he was being rocked just like a child.

It was heaven. It was perfect. Soothing words were murmured in his ear, though he couldn't distinguish actual words. That didn't matter. It was everything he had ever prayed for. Everything he could have ever wanted in his life.

Damn the pain that would come later. He would take it, a thousand times over, if it meant he could just lie here in these warm, strong, comfortable arms. Just for a little while he wanted to feel like he was worth something. Like he was special. A thing to be cherished instead of something to be ridiculed. To actually feel like a person.

To hope that, maybe, somewhere underneath the boy, there might be something more than what his Master had made him.


	11. Going Home

**Spoilers for the Fisher King episodes, sorry folks lol**

**Usual disclaimer as well as warnings. :)**

**Oh, one more thing. I noticed something I didn't before, lol. I uh, I use separators between scenes but apparently they weren't showing up as I upload my chapters. I'll try to take some time in the next day or so to add them in and keep an eye out in future chaps. I hope it didn't create any confusion for anyone!**

**Now, onto the chapter. Not really long, but, well, it's what I wrote :D**

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><p>The boy stared out the window of the car, his eyes soaking in the sights around him. There were other cars on the road, in all sorts of shapes and colors. There were businesses—some that he could name, though how he knew that name he didn't know—and houses and so many different things. All of it seemed familiar and yet not at the same time. He felt almost like he should know these things.<p>

His eyes slanted toward the front where Garcia and Morgan, with Morgan behind the wheel. They'd been quiet for a while, leaving him to his thoughts, to which he was grateful. It seemed like there was so _much_ inside his mind. So many things, all of them were pounding him, threatening to break him apart. He couldn't seem to sort them out.

He found his thoughts drifting back to the station. Back to when he'd thrown himself at Morgan. Shame coiled in his stomach. He should never have done that. But, oh, he'd simply _ached_ to be held right at that moment. To feel so safe and cherished. Even to him, those thoughts sounded dramatic, yet he couldn't help it. It was how he felt.

Part of him was terrified that Master was going to find out about it. He always found out. Yet, another part of him, a part that was so tiny it almost wasn't there, told him that Master only knew because he videotaped it all and there were no cameras here. That thought had him trembling. He was being disloyal to Master. In so many ways, he was proving what a bad boy Master had always said he was.

But why did being bad end up feeling so good? Was he a bad person? A sick person who got off on being bad? Was that why Master did what he did to him? Was that why he hurt him the way he did, because he could see inside him and see that badness?

The boy shook his head. He pushed his thoughts away from that wonderfully wrong embrace he'd been in. Instead, he thought about the words that Morgan had spoken with the tall, angry looking man. Hotch, the others had called him. Morgan had told Hotch that "I don't think we should go to a hotel. I mean, I know it was logical and all, letting Garcia and I stay with him, but I think it'd be better if we took him home."

"Home?" Hotch had said, sounding surprised. "Do you really think that's wise? First off, it's about an hour drive from here. Second, what if it triggers more than you're prepared for, Morgan?"

"I hope it triggers something. The sooner he knows who he is, the sooner we can help him heal."

"Not all victims come back ok, Morgan. You know that. It can take time. Simply walking him into the apartment might do nothing at all. You have to be prepared for that."

Morgan had given Hotch a soft smile that the boy had thought looked a little sad around the edges. Why that pulled at his heart, he didn't know, but it did. Even more so when Morgan said "I'm prepared for any of it, Hotch. The drive, it doesn't matter. If it doesn't happen today, that's ok. As long as it takes, I'm going to help him out. I won't leave him."

Those words put a nice, warm glow down in the boy's chest. He found himself wanting to be around Morgan and yet, at the same time, wanting to run far, far away. Morgan made him feel things he had forgotten even existed. He brought comfort and security. Even, dare he say, a small measure of happiness. But on the flip side of it, the boy knew that those things weren't safe. A part of him that was locked in self-preservation shied away from those feelings. They only brought him pain. Not to mention that being in Morgan's presence made the little box in the back of the boy's mind rattle more and more. He was terrified it was going to break soon and all the pain he kept locked in there might come leaking out. It might consume him.

Suddenly he realized that the car had stopped. They'd been riding for a while now but his thoughts had kept him occupied so that he'd lost track of their traveling. He looked up now, seeing a strange building in front of him. A part of his brain supplied the word—apartment complex.

"We're here, sweetie." Garcia's voice floated back to him.

With trembling fingers, the boy unhooked his seatbelt, not even sure how he knew how something like that worked. Master had only taken him in a car twice and each time, he'd hidden in the trunk. But his fingers seemed to know what to do to unhook his belt and to open the door.

When he stood beside the car, Garcia moved beside him, one of her arms coming around his waist. He jumped instinctively, bracing for a blow he was sure was coming. The flash of pain that came from his wounds being touched was pushed down before it could be noticed.

He heard the two talking to one another, though he paid no attention to it. All his attention was focused on the arm around him that was slowly propelling him forward. He didn't know why, but he didn't want to go in there. Didn't want to walk up the staircase. What was at the top he had no idea but he knew he didn't want to find out. His breathing hitched slightly. His head started to spin just a little. No, no, he didn't want to go.

That arm kept bringing him further and further forward. Slowly he was helped up the stairs, up two flights, his urge to panic growing stronger and stronger with each step he took. Then they were in a hallway and he couldn't seem to make himself take another step. The logical part of his mind was confused. There was nothing here that could threaten him! But the illogical part, the part that ran off of his instincts, wanted nothing more than to turn and run as far and as fast as he could manage.

"Don't worry, baby. I've got you. I'm right here."

Garcia's soothing whisper broke through a layer of the panic. The boy wanted to reach out, to take one of Morgan's hands in his and feel that strength and comfort once again. He just couldn't muster up the courage to do it. He drew into himself, trying to lock away the fear as he'd done countless times before. Then, with a deep breath, he put one foot in front of the other.

The shoes they'd got for him felt awkward on his feet. It made his steps unsteady. The clothes were a strange sensation as well. He wasn't used to feeling anything on his skin but pain and blood. It was those odd sensations he focused on to keep his fear from getting control of him. Focus on one thing and the rest of the world slowly tends to disappear.

They stopped in front of a door about halfway down the hallway. When Morgan put a key in, unlocking it, a small whimper slid past the boy's lips. He didn't want to go in there. Why were they making him do this? He didn't want to be here!

Yet, when the door swung open, the boy found himself moving again. This time there was no arm to propel him forward. No one was touching him. It was as if something had taken over; like someone else was in control of his body, making it move into this place he didn't want to be in.

He couldn't stop himself from looking around the room—a living room—as he walked in. Everywhere he looked he saw books. Stacks of them. On the coffee table, on an end table, on shelves against the wall. Even some piled on the floor. He stepped into the living room, one hand coming up to touch against a book on the shelf. Chaucer.

"_My mom used to read me that. It's widely considered as the first valentines' poem."_

"_Your mom read you valentines poems? Hello therapy."_

Where had that thought come from? That was Garcia's voice, the second one. Had the first one…had it been his? Was that his own voice he was remembering? It sounded like him. But, why couldn't he bring up an image of his mother? Why could he remember those words, but not a woman reading him this valentine poem?

He swallowed past the lump in his throat. The little box in his mind rattled once more. No, no, no. He didn't want to be here anymore. Didn't want to think this way. It hurt, God it hurt! But he couldn't stop himself from continuing on. He couldn't make his feet take him back out of the apartment. Instead, they carried him further in. Past the dining room, which led into a little kitchen. More books, everywhere, on every surface. All over there seemed to be books.

Down the hall, next. The further down he went, the more he felt his breathing trying to hitch. Yet still he could not stop.

There were pictures on the wall. Images of happy, smiling people. He refused to look at them. One glimpse sent pain shafting through his heart, his mind. After that he kept his eyes off of them. His mind screamed at him to run away before the pan grew too much. But onward he went until he reached a door. His hand trembled when he lifted it. Though he rested his palm against the door handle, he couldn't seem to make it turn. Couldn't bring himself to go beyond there.

It was as if opening this door was something so much bigger. What lay beyond this door, he didn't know. But something told him that, if he opened it, there would be no going back for him. This would start him down a path that he wouldn't be able to step off of until it finished. Could he do this?

The biggest part of him screamed No! He needed to leave here. He needed to go back to Master. Back to the things he knew. Back to the world where he had lived. Yet there was a small part of him that didn't scream; it whispered. Taunting him. Tantalizing him with promises he couldn't even begin to comprehend.

Once again that spot in his mind tried to break free, to push forward and take over. It was stronger than it had ever been. The rest of him instantly rebelled. He dropped his hand, taking one step back, then another, then another. He couldn't go in there; he just couldn't! They couldn't make him do this. No…no! "No, no. No. No!"

He backed straight into something solid, sending his panic sky high. Instinctively he tried to move, to step away from whatever he'd touched, but he stumbled, dropping down to the ground. There was a crash when something fell over beside him and the part of his brain that worked only for his survival took over, shoving all those other thoughts back. He curled into the fetal position, his hands covering his head, apologies spilling past his lips.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, I'm so sorry! Please, I'm sorry!"

Footsteps echoed behind him, both the hard sound of boots and the click he knew to be heels. Hands touched him and he couldn't keep the scream locked in his chest. No! "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do it! I'm sorry!"

"Kid, kid! It's ok!"

It wasn't ok. Nothing was ok. Nothing was ever going to be ok again. "I didn't mean to break it! I'm sorry!"

"No one's mad, kid. Come on now, breathe for me. Calm down. No one is mad at you. It was an accident."

But Master was mad. Master was always mad. He knew that. Master wasn't there, though, and the boy knew what he had to do. What Master had trained him to do. His hands let go of his head, balling into fists. He struck his head once, twice, almost three times. Then hands were locking over his and voices were talking to him, but it all turned into a haze. The air in his lungs felt like it was being torn from him and the world spun in violent circles.

Master hated it when he let himself pass out. Hated it because the boy couldn't react then. So he did the one thing he'd taught himself to do. With a great gasp, the boy drew into himself, pulling his mind and his sense of self deep inside, until he couldn't see the world around him, couldn't feel it, could do nothing. His body physically reacted to things, but his mind was gone. He was safe in the realm of his own mind.

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><p><strong>AN – Thank you so much to those that review! HeavensDarkestRose, thank you for the compliment on my writing and updating :) I try to update frequently because I personally hate when I read someone's story and they update like, once a month lol. I want to keep this flowing. Maryhell, I agree, I wouldn't want to move from Morgan's arms either ;) Or Reid's. Or, heck, between the two of them. Ahem. Ok, enough of that. Steph, just have to say, you seem to be my most constant reviewer. Thank you so much! To all of you, I know I didn't sit here and take the time to comment on everyone's review. I just want to thank you all for taking the time to not only read but actually write a review. It means the world to me. Makes me happy and wanting to write more! I like to know that people are liking it because if I don't know, how do I know people want more, right?**

**Ok, enough rambling on my part. Thanks again and please, everyone R&R!**


	12. To Be Free

**A/N I know, this was a fast update, but last chapter was short and so was this one. I was originally going to have them as one but I wanted to do this right and split it into two to give it the proper feel. Hope it works for all of you! Again, so glad people are loving this story and thank you for your wonderful reviews. I'm always open to advice, suggestions, anything like that, so feel free to talk about where you think the story should go :D Sometimes those pieces of advice actually help me get the story flowing even better. (Yes, I'm shamelessly begging for reviews, sue me lol)**

**Again, don't own them. Again, warnings of slash, violence, all that stuff. Also, there's spoilers for earlier episodes in here. Quite a few, actually. A little too much for me to remember the episode names and list them all, so sorry! Sorry I can't tell you which ones.**

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><p>The sun was shining when Morgan finally woke up in the morning. It came in through the windows, landing directly on his face. He barely managed to stifle a groan as his body woke and became aware of a few choice aches.<em> Where the hell did I fall asleep? <em>He wondered to himself. On his couch? Stretching, he gave a soft groan.

Something shifted against him and all of a sudden reality came crashing back in. With one blinding instant, the previous days events filled his mind. Finding Spencer, the station, the rescued girl, coming back to Spencer's apartment, all of it. His eyes shot open to look down at the small framed body lying on the couch, head pillowed in his lap. He couldn't resist bringing a hand up and stroking it down the soft hair. Absently he thought to himself that they needed to get the kid into a shower and get him all cleaned up. Why hadn't anyone done it before now?

Morgan let out a gentle sigh. Now that he was actually awake, he felt wide awake. Thoughts of the night before were playing back to him, making him wince and wonder. How would Spencer be this morning? Would he be ok? Would he remember anything when he woke up? Would….would he still be _him_ when he woke? He couldn't help but be afraid that there would be lasting damage from the events of yesterday evening.

He could still clearly see Spencer on the ground in the hallway, curled into the fetal position. He could hear his words echoing around them, begging forgiveness for knocking something over. There had been hysteria in those words that was hard to listen to.

When they'd first come into the apartment, Morgan and Garcia had stayed back, watching as the young man had walked like he was in a daze. His eyes had been taking in everything around him, soaking it all in like a sponge. When he'd lifted a hand to the bookcase, Garcia had sucked in a breath. But Spencer had only stood there, one hand resting on a book, staring with this faraway look in his eyes. Then he'd moved on, bypassing the dining room and the kitchen.

It almost looked like the kid was in pain as he walked. Not physical pain, though. No, it was more than that. It was on his face, in his eyes that looked so haunted. He looked utterly terrified of what he was doing and yet seemed unable to stop. They'd followed at a close distance, watching and waiting. They'd seen him look at a picture on the wall and flinch. Then those haunted eyes had turned, apparently locking on dead ahead.

Morgan had felt like he was waiting for something to explode. There had been a tense feeling in the air, thick enough that it was almost smothering. When he'd watched his best friend lift a hand and press it, trembling, against the door handle to the bedroom, he hadn't been able to stop himself from holding his breath. Why this seemed so important he didn't know.

Then everything had gone to hell.

Spencer had suddenly backed up, mumbling "No, no. No. No!" His backing up took him into a small table, which jostled, knocking a few books down as he'd run into it. Then he'd stumbled forward and somehow both he and the table and books had all ended up on the floor.

Wincing, Morgan looked down at the head in his lap again. He'd been so terrified when Spencer had started screaming. What happened after that, though, scared him more than anything else. It had been like Spencer had suddenly shut down. Not his body, but on the inside. When Morgan had looked into his eyes it had been like Spencer hadn't been looking back at him. Between the two of them, Morgan and Garcia had got Spencer up and out to the couch. There they'd sat, Spencer's head in Morgan's lap. The kid had never pulled back out. Eventually, after talking with Garcia for a while, Morgan had slipped into sleep.

He was afraid to look into the kid's eyes this morning. Afraid that, when he did, Spencer would still be gone. That the blank look would be there. Had they pushed him too far? Expected too much out of him? His mind was so fragile at the moment. Of course it was, with what he'd been living with. Morgan couldn't bear the thought that they might have pushed him over that last little edge.

"He's going to be ok."

The soft whisper had Morgan's head snapping up. He looked over to see Garcia standing against the wall, a coffee cup in her hands. She tried to smile reassuringly at him. "It was just too much for him, all in one day. His mind was just shutting down to preserve some of his sanity."

"What…" Morgan had to pause and clear out his throat. "What if it was too much for him? What if we pushed him too hard?"

Garcia sipped her coffee, her eyes traveling over the two men on the couch. "I don't know. But he can't hide from it. That's what he's been doing by forgetting us. He's been hiding from reality. The sooner we push him back to it, the sooner he can heal."

"The human mind can only take so much stress, baby girl. You saw him last night. He disappeared on us. I don't know what he did, but he wasn't there anymore. There was no life in his eyes. It was…it was almost like he was dead."

"He's got one of the strongest minds I've ever seen, honey pie. He'll make it out of this ok. He's got a whole family here to help him do it."

He couldn't help but look down at the sleeping boy again. "I hope to God you're right, mama." His hand stroked soothingly over Spencer's hair again as he felt the boy twitch slightly in his sleep. Most likely having nightmares. Could they expect anything less? He wanted nothing more than to hold him close and chase away the demons for him but he knew that it wasn't possible. No one would be able to take away the demons inside of Spencer Reid. But he swore to himself he was going to be here every step of the way, right alongside him. He would help him, whether the other man wanted it or not. He was not going to be alone.

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><p>Images, sounds, sensations, all of them were filling the boy's mind. Like a movie, but broken down into bits and pieces. Things that were fragmented, weaving in and out of his consciousness, taunting him with what he saw or what he heard. A clip of Garcia, her face lit with an enormous smile, telling him that she loved him. A pretty, petite blond, her eyes full of anguish—why was she so upset? She shouldn't be upset—hugging him and saying she was so sorry. The smell of a graveyard.<p>

A man with an angry face, holding a little canister and smiling at him, telling him he was really starting to get some distance on these things. But what things? And what was his name? Another man, his face warm and lined, staring intently at a chess board. Another, the pretty lady, smiling at him over a desk. Morgan, ruffling his hair and laughing at him.

All of these little clips were playing in his brain, hurting him, slicing him to shreds with the sheer happiness in them. The box in the back of his mind felt broken, shattered—would he ever be able to repair it again? He'd delved deep into his mind to escape the pain, but sleep had brought it all out. Like an avalanche, it swarmed over him in his dreams. No, no, no more! He couldn't take any more. He couldn't do this.

A woman sitting on a bed, arms around her waist, rocking back and forth as she muttered to something that wasn't there. A fiery woman with dark hair, tell him he might have saved her life. People coming, people going. Pain, always. Someone hurting him, hitting him. Not Master, no, someone else. Telling him to confess his sins. What sins? _I have so many sins. Such a bad, bad boy_. A gun in his hands, the metal cold, almost slippery.

And bodies. So many dead bodies. Not just dead; mutilated. Blood everywhere. Dismembered, cut, eviscerated, raped, decapitated, burned. The list was endless. They flashed into his mind, one right after the other, unable to stop them from coming. He didn't want to see this anymore. Didn't want these thoughts. Were they memories? Were they things of his life that he'd forgotten? If so, he didn't want to remember. He didn't want to think about it.

Cries of children, echoing in his ears. People begging to be saved. Families sobbing as they were told that their son, daughter, husband, wife, parent, were gone, never coming back, murdered so cruelly.

_God, make it stop. Make it stop!_

Was this all his life was? One wave of pain after another? He felt like he would explode with the thoughts that were filling him. How could one person hold so much? How could there be enough room in one mind for so much horror? Hadn't he lived enough? Seen enough? But it wasn't stopping. It was unending. He was stuck in the current, unable to swim for shore.

Standing before a woman as two men in white suits carried her crying from the room. A man with a suitcase walking to his car as a child watched from a window with tears in his eyes. A goal post, cold against his naked skin, voices laughing around him. A small child on the ground before him, blood pouring from the wounds on his body, murdered by someone they didn't yet know.

A needle, sliding into his skin, giving him things he didn't want…

_NO!_

With a muffled gasp, the boy pulled up from the dreams, forcefully yanking his mind back to wakefulness. His hands grasped against material, clinging tightly to it while his body seemed to vibrate with the force of his trembling. His tears were wet, though he didn't remember crying. But he remembered so much more.

Names, faces, sensations. All of it mixed like his memories had been tossed into a blender and spun around. Nothing made sense. What was real and what wasn't? He knew faces, but not names. Actions, but not what had caused them. Bodies—crime scenes—but why had he been there? He didn't want to remember this!

His eyes darted around the room, taking in the area, searching for danger. No one was in the room with him. A living room. That's where he was. A living room that was so familiar it hurt. He didn't _want_ to remember! Why had they brought him here? Why were they making him try to remember? Those memories only hurt! He fought them, but they were relentless.

So much pain. How could he withstand it? Was this what his life was? Was this what he had always lived? Pain, pain, and more pain. Losing people here, someone dying there, someone always trying to hurt him. He couldn't take the hurt anymore. He couldn't handle it. Didn't anyone understand? His heart, his _soul_, was going to break apart and explode. There was going to be nothing left of him.

The boy brought his hands up, cradling his head, which felt as if it was made of glass.

No, none of this was true. It was all a _lie_. A vicious, horrible lie. He was boy and Master was Master. Master loved him, right? That was why he hurt him, to help him. Master had been right. Always, always right. He was a bad boy. These fragmented memories showed that. What kind of man had he been to have these painful memories? Obviously he was just as bad as Master always said.

Master said that, if it wasn't for him, the boy would be hopeless. Helpless. Only Master knew how to take care of him. To stop him from being bad.

But they had taken Master away from him. These people were going to keep them apart and Master would never be able to help him again. Master would never be able to save him. What was left?

The boy looked around the room, his eyes drawing to an end table right beside the couch he was lying on. All of a sudden the thoughts in his mind seemed to freeze. He knew what he had to do. He knew what was right.

His body felt numb as he moved toward that table. One memory was clear in his mind, leading him toward his goal. One that he prayed was real. If he was right, he would find what he needed. His hand slid out, pulling on the drawer, looking inside. There, at the back, he found what he was looking for. What he needed.

He knew what he had to do now.

There was too much pain. Too many things, all at once. He remembered too much. They couldn't expect him to live with this. They just couldn't.

Surprisingly, his hands didn't tremble. They were steady as a rock when he reached into that drawer and pulled out his salvation. They were steady as he turned the gun in his hands, staring at it. The pain of his memories was calmed now. They were pushed back for this one moment of clarity. In that moment, he knew.

His name was Spencer Reid.

And now, it was time for the moment that had been coming for so long. It was time for Spencer Reid to die.

He saw nothing, heard nothing, as he turned the gun in his hands, placing the point underneath his jaw. The world shut off around him. His hand moved, finger going to the trigger. His lips curved in a small smile. Finally, he would find peace. Finally, it would be done.

He would be free.


	13. I Can't Lose You Again

**A/N So, yeah, did you guys really think I would just leave it off there? Of course not. I do not like to kill main characters, just to warn you all. Can't stand it really. And I know, I know, I was going to update this chapter faster but real life got in the way. Such is the life of having a four year old and being a stay at home mom lol! I have to say, though, your reviews made me so happy. I think I might actually break 100 reviews by the time I'm done and, if I manage to do that, I may squeal with happiness. We'll see. Sure would make my husband look at me funny, wouldn't it? Sitting here squealing at the computer.**

**Enough with that, though. Onto the story! I'm sure you're dying to read more. :) Hope you all like this! As always, PLEASE read and review!**

**Oh yeah. I don't own them. Warnings for violence, non-con, all that stuff. Occasional spoilers. Don't know which chapters, might not even be this one, but I'm giving a blanket warning. Now, onward!**

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><p>The cup of coffee in Morgan's hands felt like heaven. He hadn't realized how sore his body was until he had tried to get up off the couch. "I'm getting too old for this." He grumbled. His eyes slanted up to Garcia, who leaned against the kitchen counter and smirked at him. "You repeat that to anyone, baby girl, and I'll get you for it."<p>

"Promise?" The playful remark was followed by her batting her eyelashes suggestively. They both grinned. Their usual banter seemed to break the tension of the morning. Neither one of them had spoken about Spencer since that moment in the living room; they didn't quite know what to say. So many things would depend on when the kid woke up.

Morgan had extracted himself from his position on the couch so that he could get up and use the restroom and get himself some coffee. It had taken a little maneuvering but he had managed to get Spencer laid down without waking him up. Then he'd left him there, still sleeping, to take care of his morning rituals.

Now he and Garcia stood in the kitchen, each drinking their coffee, each anxiously waiting for the younger man to wake up. The living room had been silent for quite a while now. Morgan found himself turning his head, looking that direction as if he would be able to see through the wall.

"He's going to be ok, handsome."

The reassuring words didn't ease the knot that seemed to be sitting in Morgan's stomach. His gaze didn't turn away from the wall for a long minute. "I think I'm just going to go sit in there." He finally said. When Garcia started to say something, Morgan turned to look at her. "It's hard for me to let him out of my sight, baby girl. I know it's irrational, but if he's out of my sight I feel like I'm going to lose him again. I promise I won't wake him up. I'll just sit in a chair."

Her whole face softened. Walking over to him, she brought a hand up to pat his cheek. "I'll make some breakfast." Was all she said.

Morgan couldn't help but smile at the woman who understood him so well. He leaned in and kissed her forehead before heading to the living room. He had no idea what he was about to find.

The world seemed to freeze around him when he stepped into the living room. What met his eyes was the last thing he had ever thought he would see. More horrifying than anything. Spencer Reid sat in the middle of the couch, eyes closed, a gun pressed against his chin.

Morgan never felt the coffee mug slip out of his hands. Didn't hear it hit the floor and shatter, sending coffee anywhere. His entire being was focused on Spencer. He darted forward, knowing the whole time that he wasn't going to be fast enough. Knowing that there was no way he would cross that distance in enough time to get those long fingers off the trigger. But he couldn't stop his body from trying.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. He had barely made it three steps, only two more to go, when he saw that finger move, heard the ominous click of the gun. His stomach rolled and he wanted to scream, sure he was about to see his best friend, someone he loved dearly, with their head caved in.

There was no telling who was more shocked when Morgan finally collided into Spencer, knocking them back onto the couch and the two men realized that no bullet had been fired. Morgan stared at the body underneath him; into a face full of shock with those puppy dog eyes so wide they almost took up Spencer's whole face. All he could feel was relief. The gun hadn't been loaded. Thank God above, it hadn't been _loaded_.

Where he felt relief, it was obvious that Spencer felt something totally opposite. The shock switched to disbelief and finally, to agony. "No!" Spencer shouted. His body bucked underneath Morgan. "_No_!" There was so much anguish in that one word that it was heart wrenching.

Morgan didn't waste another moment. He took advantage of the state of mind Spencer was in and quickly snatched the gun from him, tossing it behind him. Then he took Spencer's wrists in his, pinning them down above his head as the body underneath his started to fight.

"No!" Spencer screamed again. "Dammit, no!"

Who knew a small body could pack so much strength? When Spencer bucked he almost managed to dislodge Morgan from overtop him. The older man had to push down and use all his weight to pin the younger to the couch. "Reid, come on. Stop! It's just me!"

Spencer surprised him by sobbing out "I know!"

He almost lost his grip because of his shock. At the last second he tightened back down before Spencer could break free. Did he mean what he thought? Did he mean he remembered Morgan from yesterday, or that he _remembered_ him? When Spencer bucked again and tears started to stream down his face, Morgan decided that it didn't matter right at the moment. What mattered was getting him to calm down. "You need to stop, kid, come on. Stop! You're only going to hurt yourself."

"I don't _care_!" Spencer shrieked. He writhed and twisted, still trying to get free. "I _want_ to hurt! Why did you have to stop me? Why couldn't you just let me go?"

"I'm not letting you die, Spencer Reid!"

"I _want_ to! I _deserve_ to!"

Morgan wanted to wrap his arms around the younger man. He hated hearing him break down like this. Hated that Spencer, who had always been so silently strong, was so far down that he actually wanted to kill himself. "I'm not letting you go, pretty boy." He whispered, laying his head down beside Spencer's. He had his whole body stretched out over him, holding him to the couch, his hands still gripping Spencer's wrists. "I thought I lost you once. I'm not doing it again."

All at once the fight drained out of Spencer. His body went limp, sinking into the couch and his sobs grew. Morgan hesitantly let go, shifting off of him a little. Spencer didn't run away, though Morgan had been braced to catch him. Instead, he curled into himself, rolling to his side as sobs convulsed through him.

Morgan reached out, gathering him close. It worried him that Spencer didn't resist. He didn't snuggle in, either. It was like he had lost all urge to fight or do anything. He was limp when Morgan pulled them both into a sitting position and cradled his best friend to him. Spencer just lay there and sobbed; loud, gut wrenching sobs.

"God, Reid." Morgan whispered into his hair. "I can't lose you again. Why on earth would you try and shoot yourself?" He didn't really expect an answer, so it surprised him when he got one. "It's too much." Spencer sobbed out. "Too many thoughts, too much pain. Everything hurts. They're stabbing my brain."

"What is?"

"_Everything_!" The word was almost a shriek. "I locked it away and you had to bring me here and break it open and now I can't make it _go away_! I don't want to remember! I don't!"

Oh holy God. He was remembering! Spencer was remembering! Morgan couldn't help but feel elated that his friend was coming back at the same time that he ached for the pain it was obviously putting him through. "You can't hide in your head forever, pretty boy. You need to remember if you're going to heal."

"But it hurts! Morgan, it hurts so much! I can't do this, I'm not strong enough. I just can't! There's too much, it's all jumbled together and it's like broken glass in my head. I don't know if I can make it go away again! I'm not that strong anymore!"

A lump built in Morgan's throat. He had to swallow it down before he could find his voice and speak. While he did, his hands rubbed soothingly over Spencer's arms and he pressed his cheek against the top of the young agent's head. "Oh, Spencer. Why would you want to lock it away? I know it hurts, but why would you want to forget us?" It hadn't been what he'd meant to ask, but it was what he was dying to know. Spencer's words made it sound like the young man had intentionally locked away his memories. Why?

None of Spencer's walls were up right then. He was raw and exposed and didn't seem to have the strength to care. "I didn't want to remember any of you." He said hoarsely between sobs. "It hurt too much. I had to do it, Morgan, I had to! I took everything, all of you, my pride, my dignity, and I put it in a box in my head where it couldn't hurt anymore. I couldn't live like that with all of you in my head. It made it hurt more. I didn't want to remember! Why did you have to make me? Why did you do that to me?"

"You have to remember, Spencer. You're not in that house anymore. You're not with him. He can't hurt you anymore. It's time for you to start healing, kid. We're going to be here to help you every step of the way. We won't ever let him hurt you again."

"You can't stop him!" With that shriek, Spencer pulled back from Morgan, staring at his face. It was hard to look at Spencer's face and see the utter agony that was right out in the open. To see the tears that still poured down his cheeks. "You can't, Morgan. I'm his property. He won't stop until he has me again and he's going to kill me for leaving him like this. He's going to break me down and kill me."

"The hell he will." The words were growled out before Morgan even stopped to think about it. "I fucked up once and lost you, Reid. I won't let it happen again."

Shuddering, Spencer closed his eyes. "You didn't fuck up." He whispered. That small comment, the instant defense of a friend, warmed Morgan's heart, though not for the reasons some might have thought. He wasn't warmed by Spencer's defense of him, because he knew he had fucked up, but by how much that sounded like the kid he had once known and loved. He stayed silent as Spencer opened his eyes again and looked at him, pain written all over him. "I can't do this, Derek. I just can't. I can't go back to being me again. I can't be Spencer Reid. The things I've done, the things I let him do…there's nothing left of me to save." Only a single tear fell this time, so much more powerful than the sobbing had been. It was the single tear of a broken man. "He destroyed who I am. All that's left is who he made me. I don't want to remember me, because it makes it hurt so much more. It makes me look at who I am and what I did and I hate myself for it."

Unable to stop himself, Morgan reached out and took Spencer's hands in his, ignoring the flinch his friend gave. "You did what you had to do to survive." He whispered, trying to put all his emotion into his words. He needed Spencer to hear the truth in what he said. "What you did or what he did, it's not your fault. You survived, kid, when lesser people would have broken completely. You are an amazing, strong, wonderful person. None of this changes that."

"You don't know what I did."

Those six words sent a chill down Morgan's spine. "Then tell me." He found himself saying. "Tell me what's so horrible that you think you don't deserve to live anymore." When Spencer looked at him in surprise and agony, Morgan squeezed his hands reassuringly. "Tell me, so I can look you in the face and tell you, right here, right now, that it doesn't change a thing. Tell me and then see that I'll still be here for you. That I'll still care about you."

He didn't think that Spencer would actually do it. The young man was so raw right then, so broken inside. Morgan thought for sure that Spencer would shake his head or go silent on him or try to move the subject. He briefly wondered if he was pushing him too hard, too far. They'd only had him back for a _day_. But he sensed that this was the most important conversation he was ever going to have.

There was a small amount of reluctance in Spencer's eyes that suddenly gave way to pain and resignation. Morgan could almost hear Spencer's thoughts, hear him thinking that he would chase him away by telling him this and then he'd be free to be alone like he wanted.

"I've killed people." Spencer finally whispered. "Women. I killed them."

"How?"

That question threw Spencer for a minute. His eyes jumped up to Morgan's face, then down to their joined hands. "I sat there with them, when Master was done with them." His voice was so low that Morgan almost couldn't hear it, but he said nothing. Just waited as Spencer worked up the courage to continue. "Master knew I was smart, so he would tell me to alert him if they started to fade overnight so he might come save them. I…they begged me not to. Begged me to let them lay there. To hold their hands so they…so they didn't die alone. I sat there and watched their breath leave them. I let them die, when I could have helped them. And you know what I felt?"

This time, the agony in Spencer's eyes when he looked up was so strong it was almost a physical blow that left Morgan reeling. He couldn't have spoken to save his life.

"I felt jealous." Spencer whispered. "Jealous that they found a way out and angry that they left me there alone. In the end I was always alone and it made me so angry with them. I killed them, and I was _angry_ with them."

This time Morgan forced himself to speak. He wanted to make Spencer understand, more than anything else. It was important to make him understand. "Spencer, listen to me. You. Did. Not. Kill. Them." When Spencer started to protest, Morgan shook his head. "No, kid, don't take that guilt on yourself. Don't take responsibility for something you didn't do. You held their hand when they died from the beating a crazy man gave them. You didn't hurt them."

"But I didn't save them."

"You saved them from a death far more brutal than what they got down there with you. You saved them from dying with Vincent being the last thing they saw. Their last breaths came with peace because of you, not terror."

A shudder ran down Spencer's small frame. "I wanted to die with them." He said the words as if they were something to be ashamed of. "I wish I had. I wish I could now. I shouldn't be here with you, touching you. I shouldn't be bringing what I am around you."

"What you are is my best friend in the entire world and there's nowhere else I'd be right now, kid, so you just stop that right this instant." Running on instinct, Morgan squeezed the small hands in his. "Enough is enough for one morning, pretty boy. All of this doesn't have to come out now. Right now it's enough that you remember. Just…trust us to help you through this, ok? None of us want to lose you, no matter what. We've all been thorugh that. We don't want to feel that way again."

For a long minute Spencer just stared at him. There were so many emotions going through his eyes that Morgan couldn't even decipher them all. He sat and waited, knowing that Spencer was working on coming to some kind of decision. Finally, in a small, quiet voice, Spencer whispered "I'll try."

The smile that lit Morgan's face was so wide he was surprised it didn't split him in two. "That's all I can ask for." He gave Spencer's hands another squeeze, trying to pass along strength and comfort, and was pleased to feel a small squeeze in return. He decided that maybe it was time to start him on that road toward healing, so he did the one thing he thought might help. "Hey, pretty boy, why don't we get you down the hall and in the shower? I imagine you'd like to be clean."

Fear and longing both were easy to read in Spencer's expression. Followed quickly by that was a small burst of shame. "I…" He stopped, swallowed, looked away. "I don't know if I can, well, I mean…"

Understanding dawned. The kid was hurting and was worried about being able to stand up in the shower. "I'll help you." He offered gently. At Spencer's surprised look, Morgan shrugged. "I told you kid, I'm here for the long haul. Nothing you need is going to bother me, ok? Now, come on. I know if I were you I'd want to wash up and ease a few aches. Let's go."

Still holding hands, the two men rose carefully from the couch. Morgan had to reach out and brace his friend briefly when they were finally standing and he saw Spencer sway a little. It surprised the both of them when Spencer leaned into him instead of jerking away. Spencer spoke without thinking. "I don't know why, but you touching me isn't as scary as everyone else."

Morgan held him close and helped him start to shuffle his way down the hall. "It's just cause I'm that great, kid. Come on now. I thought you were remembering things? Don't you remember that?"

The sound Spencer made might have been considered a chuckle or a snort, but it was laced with pain and there was still a trace of his earlier agony in it. "I'm remembering reality, Morgan. Not fiction."

From her hiding spot in the kitchen, Garcia brought a hand up to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. Her baby was coming back. It was going to be a long road to healing, but he was coming back. She smiled through the tears. If there was anyone who could help start Spencer on the road to healing, she knew it would be Derek Morgan. And standing there, in the kitchen of an apartment no one had been inside of for two years, she swore to herself that she would do everything in her power to help the young agent. They weren't going to lose him again.

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><p><strong>AN How was that? Hope you all liked it. I know it may seem quick that he's starting to remember, but I needed it to happen that way, so yeah. Sorry if you don't like it. I got a PM saying that it was way too soon and too early for the memories to start hitting him in the last chapter, that there should have been more healing time. Well, I apologize for those who don't like it. To those that do, thank you!**

**Maryhell: I know that was quite a cliffie, lol. As you see, Morgan and Garcia were there, just in the kitchen. I wouldn't leave Reid alone!**

**Allyanime: LoL you shouldn't give up time studying for exams to read this, but at the same time, thanks :D Glad you liked it!**

**Steph: Don't worry, I am NOT a fan of character deaths :P**

**Nanilly: sorry for leaving you there, but it does build the suspense well, doesn't it? **

**Purpleapples: Hope this is the conclusion for this chap you were looking for, but trust me, there is plenty more to come. I'm not done with my boys yet.**

**I may be posting some other stories here soon. Not sure. I have this tendency to abuse Reid in my stories (maybe cause he just makes it so easy. Or maybe my muse is mean. Hm. Or maybe I'm just crazy) But still, thought I might post some other things I have going. I've got a few on my comp, but none are finished. Just works in progress. So, maybe. Yeah. Anyways, will update soon! Thank you so much for the reviews, you all are WONDERFUL! You make me feel so good :D Weet, weet.**


	14. A Little Healing Time

**Sorry it took me a little longer to update than normal and I know this chapter isn't really long, or really that important maybe in the grand scheme. But, I've had some bad news in RL and some stress and I kind of wanted to write a nice little scene. Things aren't going to go perfectly for our little Reid, but I thought he deserved a little nice chapter after his horror and such lately. Just a bonding moment, so to speak. Hope you all enjoy it. And remember, I don't own anything lol**

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><p>Too many things seemed to be happening all at once. Spencer found himself standing in the bathroom of an apartment he'd never thought he'd see again. More memories were assaulting him in here. Memories of pain, of hardship. Of things he could have happily lived the rest of his life without remembering. He didn't <em>want<em> to remember anymore. He didn't want to have these thoughts with their edges as sharp as glass cutting at him. Wasn't it better when he hadn't remembered? When everything was a blur?

Not that everything was clear now. It was so jumbled together that he couldn't even make sense of half of the memories. He knew who he was now. That was one part of things he would cling to. He was SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. That, he would never forget again. He may still be 'boy', but inside, he would always remember his name. That part of him he would never give up.

But…the other memories, they were so mixed up. Like a deck of neatly stacked cards that had been thrown into the air. They were all floating around, landing helter skelter. Spencer paused, his head tipping as one thought floated up above the rest. _The murders perpetrated by members of Charles Manson's "Family" were inspired in part by Manson's prediction of Helter Skelter, an apocalyptic war he believed would arise from tension over racial relations between blacks and whites._

That wasn't exactly something he wanted to remember right at the moment. But it was right there in the forefront of his mind now. Photos, testimony, all of it. Why did he have to remember that stuff?

"What is it, pretty boy?"

Morgan's voice broke into his trance, yanking him from the deluge of memories. Spencer actually found himself grateful for it. He hadn't been able to pull himself out. "My, uh, my head. It's….everything is jumbled." Spencer muttered. It was too ingrained in him anymore to answer questions when asked. When you did, you were hurt. Answer any questions automatically or suffer for it. Be a good boy. A good boy.

"That's to be expected, I'd think. Your memories are all trying to come back at once. Don't focus so hard on it and let it all come naturally. It might make the process easier."

Oh, how he wished that it would work that way. But everything was so confusing. How could he not think on it? But maybe, just maybe, Morgan could help him sort through it all. Instead of having it tossing around in his mind, Morgan might be able to help him make sense of some of it. Maybe?

Morgan's arm around him gently nudged him forward. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."

Cleaned up? Spencer furrowed his brows. Then his mind cleared a little. That's right. They were supposed to be in here getting him bathed. That sounded heavenly. Finally getting clean for the first time in so long. Master liked him clean, but he liked him even more with fresh blood on him. A shiver ran down Spencer's gaunt frame. Master so liked his blood…

One of Morgan's hands left him, reaching into the tub to turn on and adjust the water. How was he supposed to do this? He couldn't stand long enough in a tub to get clean. Was that what Morgan expected him to do? Did he expect him to stand there and get clean? He didn't want to upset Morgan. No, not when Morgan was the only steady thing in his world right now. Even steadier than Garcia. Maybe he should ask Garcia to come in here and help him. He wouldn't be so worried about upsetting her. But would that make Morgan mad? Would Morgan get angry with him for wanting someone else to help him?

Again, Morgan's voice broke into his thoughts. "Just a second and the tub will be full, kid. I doubt you'd be able to stand for real long. Why don't we get you dressed down and settled in there?"

A small prayer of thanks rose into Spencer's mind. He wouldn't have to stand!

All sense of modesty had been burned out of him a long time ago. A small semblance of it was trying to reassert itself, telling him that this was his friend and undressing in front of him should be weird, but he couldn't really bring himself to care about it. Who cared if he was naked in front of Morgan? Clothed, naked, what did it matter? When a person wanted to see his body, it wouldn't take much to force him to strip. At least this way it was done on his terms and not someone else's. _When someone turns your body into an object, your boundaries slowly start to disappear. Why would I care about stripping in front of him? If he wanted me naked, he could easily overpower me and have me stripped in no time flat._

It surprised him when Morgan didn't move to undress him. Spencer took that to mean that he was expected to do it on his own. He brought his shaking hands up to start pulling at his clothes. Morgan's hands stayed on him the whole time, helping him keep his balance. In no time at all Spencer was naked in the middle of his bathroom. Morgan leaned over and shut off the water to the tub.

"Here, why don't you, um, use the facilities real quick before we put you in the tub." Morgan suggested, almost sounding embarrassed. Spencer didn't hesitate to follow the order. He didn't see Morgan's blush, or the way his friend turned away while Spencer relieved himself. When he was done and the toilet was flushed, Morgan helped him wash his hands at the sink.

Gentle hands helped him climb into the bathtub. Instinctively Spencer cringed in preparation for the water. He got the surprise of his life when the water touched him and it wasn't hot and it wasn't cold, but a nice mix of the two. He found himself sinking into it with a soft sigh. When was the last time he'd had a bath like this? A bath that didn't burn him with heat or burn him with the icy temperature.

The cuts stung from encountering the water. He didn't mind so much. It was heavenly just to be sitting there, stinging and all.

"If I knew it was that easy to make you smile, I'd have put you in the tub yesterday." Morgan said in a voice that was lighthearted and almost…was it teasing? There was nothing malicious to it. Spencer let the words flow around him for a moment, enjoying words that weren't spoken in anger.

He opened his eyes to see the older man sitting on the toilet, watching him with a grin on his face. That was when he realized there was a small smile curving his own lips. He was…smiling. Actually _smiling_. The shock of it wiped it off his face. For the first time in years, he'd _smiled_.

"The bath…it feels good." Spencer whispered. He couldn't help the fear that Morgan would take this away, knowing that he was enjoying it.

But Morgan only nodded and kept smiling. "Don't tell anyone, but I like to indulge in a bath sometimes myself. Occasionally, when I'm real stressed, I toss bubbles in. There's something about a bubble bath that makes you feel like a kid. You just can't stay stressed when you're sitting in a pile of bubbles."

The idea of Morgan sitting in a tub full of bubbles was enough to bring back a ghost of Spencer's smile. He just couldn't picture the older man indulging in something as frivolous as a bubble bath. "I used to indulge in the occasional bubble bath." He said without thinking. The minute the words left his mouth he furrowed his eyebrows. Where had that come from?

Morgan didn't really give him time to think on that. He chuckled and teased "Why doesn't that surprise me? If I'd thought about it I would've put some bubbles in here for you now. I'm sure there in here somewhere."

"Just being clean in enough."

Where were all these words coming from? A part of Spencer still rebelled at the idea of speaking. Master had told him not to speak. Master would be furious if he knew he was in here with another man, bathing, talking to him. But Master wasn't here. Maybe he could keep Master from finding out? No…Master always found out. He considered it worth the price he would pay, though. To feel human for a short while. To feel like he was really a person, not a thing.

The other part of him seemed to be aching to talk. Words had been held in for so long it was like they were trying to all burst from him at once. That urge was there around Garcia, but it was stronger around Morgan. Some part of his brain told him that he could tell Morgan everything and Morgan would be there for him. That he would listen to him no matter what. That was a heady thought. Could he really bring himself to do it? To talk about his life?

"Is…is Master really going to jail, Morgan?" He looked up as he asked the question that was foremost in his mind. Everything in his world hinged on that one question.

It meant more to him than Morgan knew when Morgan's eyes stayed steady on him. "Yes. We have video evidence of what he's done, kid. There's no way he's getting off with that kind of evidence stacked up against him." His voice dropped lower, turning just a little gentler. "You won't have to ever see him again."

Twin jolts of fear and gratitude shot up. Fear, because he still felt as if he should be back in Master's basement. He was a bad boy and he needed someone to control him. Someone to teach him how to be good. Gratitude, because he was so tired of hurting. So tired of trying and failing to learn. "Who will help me, though?" He asked without thinking about it.

"Help you?"

"To be good." Spencer whispered. His gaze dropped down to the water. Stress had him curling his legs up toward his chest, making as small a target as possible and protecting his vital organs.

He heard Morgan sigh, the sound almost painful. Had he said something wrong? Had he upset Morgan? Oh, please, please, he didn't want to upset him. He didn't want Morgan to get mad at him. Not Morgan. Please!

"You are good, kid." Morgan finally answered him. It sounded like he was having a hard time talking. Almost like he had a cold. "You're one of the best people I've ever known."

Spencer knew that was wrong. He _wasn't_ good. Master had hurt him because of how bad he was. But he wasn't supposed to argue with people. Arguing brought trouble and his aching body didn't need any more trouble. So he kept his mouth shut, locking away the protest that started to rise.

Another sigh sounded in the bathroom. Then Morgan spoke again, that thick sound gone from his voice. "Why don't I help you wash your hair, kid? I bet your arms don't really want to lift that high right now. I don't remember what the file said your injures are, but I can see the marks."

"After they admitted me they discovered I had obtained a poorly relocated shoulder which they proceeded to relocate for me. I also suffered from three bruised ribs, multiple lacerations and abrasions, malnourishment, and hematuria."

"Hematuria?" Morgan interrupted his spiel even as his hands were grabbing a cup from the counter and filling it with water. He helped Spencer tip his head back and was gently pouring water over his hair. "What's that?"

"In medicine, hematuria, or haematuria, is the presence of red blood cells in the urine. It may be idiopathic and/or benign, or it can be a sign that there is a kidney stone or a tumor in the urinary tract, ranging from trivial to lethal. If white blood cells are found in addition to red blood cells, then it is a signal of urinary tract infection. Mine was caused by a sharp blow to the kidneys."

Spencer blinked a little, surprised at what had just come out of his mouth. How had he known that? Where on earth had that come from? He'd rattled it off like it was nothing. When Morgan had asked him what it was, the answer had simply floated up in his mind. That happened all the time when Master asked him things. Spencer never knew how he knew something like that.

If Morgan thought it odd, he didn't say anything. In fact, he was busy putting shampoo into Spencer's hair and lightly scrubbing it in. The sensation was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.

"So, in layman terms, you've essentially had the crap beat out of you by a bastard." Morgan asked in a conversational tone. "And we essentially just need to be very careful with you."

For a minute Spencer could only stare in shock up at Morgan. He'd called Master a bastard. A _bastard_. The audacity of that statement left Spencer unsure of what to say.

He closed his eyes when Morgan asked him, lying back and letting the shampoo be rinsed off of his hair. The bathroom stayed silent as Morgan picked up a washcloth and moved on to cleaning the rest of him. Spencer just lay there, eyes closed, lost in the sensations of being cared for. The concept was so foreign to him. Yet it was so soothing.

For just this little bit, his mind actually felt peaceful. He let all thought drift away. No memories, no thoughts of Master. Nothing. Just an empty mind and Morgan's gentle ministrations. Completely at peace, Spencer slid into sleep.

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><p><strong>Now, i know some of you may wonder why Reid is still acting the way he is now that he's remembered who he is and mostly who the others are around him. Well, just becuase he remembers doesn't mean that he's going to instantly forget the 'training' Vincent put him through. He may know he's Spencer Reid, but the role he played as 'boy' is still strong inside of him. Should be interesting when the rest of the team comes to see him, right? :) And maybe an old friend as well. But, ah, can't say anything more. Hmm. No, definitely not. Don't want to spoil things. :D<strong>

**Remember, read and review! I love your reviews! I can't believe how many I have right now, wow. I promise in the end of the next chapter to respond to a few of you. I didn't take the time tonight because, well, I'm tired. :P And I really just wanted to get this posted lol. Hope you guys enjoy this and sorry for any mistakes you come across, I wrote this in like an hour lol. Should be updating in a day or two! Hopefully just a day :D**


	15. Am I Crazy?

**Ok, so here's the next update! Hope you all like it. :) I wanted to address here a PM that I received from someone (who shall remain nameless) who insisted on telling me that my story is moving far too slow and too much time is being spent on recovery and not enough on action. You said to me that I will lose readers because this story is growing dull and will not hold interest. To that, all I have to say is, well, uh, too bad. I feel that too many stories don't pay enough attention to the mental side of things. They focus mostly on the physical. His mental state in this story is vital to know because it makes the character alive. I can't gloss over it and straight to the action because I feel it would ruin the story. If you think I'm too descriptive or 'slow' in my writing, then please, feel free not to read. But do not flame my inbox, ok? Thanks.**

**Also, just because I'm writing healing does not mean he is perfectly ok, nor that the angst or such is done. Trust me, it isn't. :P I'm so mean to poor Reid. I just can't help it.**

**To the rest of you who like this story, I sure hope you enjoy it. Read and review, please! I love reading your reviews.**

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><p>Hands were touching him, on his body, on his skin. Spencer wanted so badly to beg them to stop. He didn't want to be touched. No more, no more. He couldn't handle any more. He couldn't handle this. Hadn't he been hurt enough? But Master never relented. He laughed when his boy begged him to stop. It made him more excited. Turned him on. So Spencer had learned to keep the pleading behind his lips for as long as possible. But it didn't stop his mind from screaming.<p>

But, no! No! This wasn't supposed to be happening! He was supposed to be safe! Wasn't he? Morgan had been here, hadn't he? He'd told Spencer that he was safe now. That no one would hurt him again. So why were those hands on him? Had Morgan lied to him? That thought hurt so much more than he'd expected. This was why he'd locked away all those memories. This was why he'd let himself be reduced to being 'boy'. When he thought of his friends, he was hopeful. Hope ended up doing nothing but bringing you more hurt.

Had it all been a dream? His rescue, seeing his friends, coming to his apartment with Morgan and Garcia. Had all of it been a feverish dream? It couldn't be.

The hands were on him again, pulling him, moving him. No! He couldn't do this again! It was too much. There was only so much a person's mind could take before they snapped. He had reached that point. He couldn't do this!

When the hands tugged at him again, sending the ache in his body to life, Spencer Reid didn't think. He reacted. His hand flung up, connecting with something with a solid thump. There was a loud thud as whatever he'd hit connected with the floor and there was the sound of water splashing all over the place.

Water?

Spencer's eyes shot open, alerting him to the fact that they'd been closed. There was no moment of disorientation. No confusion. One look at the room he was in and all of it became clear in his mind.

He wasn't at Master's house. Master hadn't been hurting him.

He hadn't dreamt his rescue. He'd been dreaming of the torture.

He was still in the bathtub where he'd fallen asleep.

And he had hit Morgan right in his face.

No matter how much trust he felt towards Morgan, or how safe he felt in his presence, Spencer couldn't stop the fear that gripped him when he saw Morgan sitting on the bathroom floor, one hand over his eye, his face a mask of total shock. The two men were frozen; one with shock and one with fear.

When Morgan finally moved, Spencer reacted on instinct once again. That need to survive had been triggered and he couldn't contain himself. He whimpered and curled in on himself, heedless of the water that was splashing out of the tub. "Please, I'm sorry!" he begged. Despite how much his brain told him that begging was useless, he wasn't able to stop the words from coming out. They sounded more like a cry as they echoed through the bathroom.

"Kid…"

From the side of his vision, Spencer could see Morgan lifting a hand. He cowered again and curled tighter. Knees up to his chest, hands over his head, protecting the most vital parts. Tears coursed unnoticed down his cheeks and the sobs were already building in his throat in anticipation of what he knew was coming. He had done it now. How could he have been so stupid as to hit Morgan?

He felt his heart race as air pushed raggedly in and out of his lungs. What an idiot he was! Master was right. He was such a bad boy. Right there was the proof! He'd hit someone who'd only been helping him! Who'd just been trying to be there for him and take care of him. Then Spencer had gone and hit him and ruined everything. He deserved whatever Morgan did. He deserved all of it. He was a bad person. A bad boy.

"Spencer, I'm not going to touch you." Morgan said softly. The words seemed to ring around them. When Spencer didn't move, didn't even peek out, he heard Morgan sigh. There was the sound of movement, like Morgan had sat more comfortably on the floor, and then his friend was speaking again. "I didn't mean to scare you, kid. I really didn't. I should have been more careful while you were sleeping and I'm sorry. My intention wasn't to startle you. I'm not mad at you for hitting me, kid. I'm actually a little glad to see you defending yourself. That's a positive thing."

A positive thing? How could he say that? But, he didn't sound mad. Spencer knew what anger sounded like. He knew the sound of quiet rage. All ends of the spectrum of anger. Morgan didn't hold any sound like that in his voice. If anything he sounded…sad. Spencer dared to peek out from his arms, looking through a screen of wet hair.

Morgan didn't _look_ mad, either. His face held the same hint of sadness that his voice had. It almost seemed too good to be true. Could he trust it? Could he trust Morgan's words; that he wasn't mad and he wouldn't touch him? So badly did Spencer want to believe him. But he couldn't just overcome his fears with one easy move. They had been bred too deep in him. Yet, at the same time, he couldn't stop himself from hoping once more, even knowing that it would potentially set him up to be hurt so much worse later on. How could he do anything but hope when faced with that sad and caring look in Morgan's eyes? They seemed to reach out and hold Spencer in place, keeping him from fraying apart.

"I didn't mean to hit you." He whispered. Even as he spoke he flinched, afraid he might have stepped too far.

A small smile curved Morgan's lips. "I know that." That was all he said. The words held more power in them than if he'd tried to reassure Spencer.

Slowly Spencer uncurled, his shaking hands moving to rest on his knees. With one part of his mind he pushed down the pain that was radiating through him. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"I'm sorry I scared you."

Unbidden, Spencer found himself saying "Master liked to…to sneak up on me. He liked to startle me. It, amused him to startle me."

A soft sigh sounded in the little bathroom. Morgan said nothing, only watching him with that steady stare, still so full of sadness and compassion. Yet Spencer saw no traces of pity. If there had been, he would have locked up tight. He didn't want any pity. But, maybe it was because Morgan didn't pity him, or maybe it was because he didn't speak…Spencer found himself talking once again. "He, he liked to wait until I fell asleep and, and, he'd grab me or hit me o-or w-w-whip me." The words stuttered their way past his lips, but he couldn't stop them. They were sitting on the tip of his tongue, aching to be said. "He hated when I d-didn't react, s-so he'd do t-t-things to m-make me."

Looking down at his scarred legs, Spencer felt tears build in his eyes once again. "I hate him." He spoke so low he didn't know if Morgan heard him. "But at the same time, a part of me loves him. Simply aches to be with him. I never want to see him again and yet I find myself seeking him out around me, like a dog looking for its Master." Even softer yet, "Am I crazy?"

"No."

There was such conviction in Morgan's voice that Spencer found himself looking up once again. No trace of doubt or worry was on Morgan's face now. Only strength and faith. The older profile locked their gazes. "You are not crazy, Spencer Reid. I know the answer to this is in that big brain of yours. You may not have all yourself back, but I bet you know what Stockholm syndrome is."

"Stockholm syndrome is a paradoxical psychological phenomenon in which captives express empathy and have positive feelings towards their captors, sometimes to the point of defending them. The captives essentially mistake a lack of abuse from their captors as an act of benevolence. Eventually they are conditioned to believe that the abuse they suffer is somehow their punishment and they strive to obey their captors to avoid that punishment. Roughly 27% of victims show evidence of Stockholm syndrome."

The ramble came automatically to Spencer's lips, slipping out before he even thought about it. When he was done, he furrowed his eyebrows, wondering where that had come from. Other statistics on Stockholm syndrome bounced around in his mind, but he kept those inside. How did he know all of that?

His answer seemed to please Morgan. The older man smiled at him and nodded. "That's right, Reid."

The use of his last name startled Spencer slightly. He knew, inside his mind, who he was now. But he was out of practice at hearing a name applied to him. It sounded…wrong. Yet at the same time…right. That made no sense!

A shiver ran down Spencer's body. The water had grown almost cold by now. Morgan must have seen it because he was suddenly rising to his feet. "Why don't we get you out of there?" He suggested, reaching for a towel and slinging it over his shoulder. He moved to the edge of the tub, letting their eyes meet once more. Something about Morgan's eyes made it impossible to look away, though Spencer had been trained not to meet a man's eyes. "I'm going to touch you now, ok, kid? Just to help you up out of the tub. Is that all right?"

The fact that Morgan asked him, actually _asked_ him instead of telling him, meant so much to Spencer that it brought the tears back. He couldn't speak past the lump in his throat so he simply nodded. When Morgan touched him, he couldn't help but flinch, but he didn't stop him. Together the two got Spencer on his feet, the soft towel wrapped around him. It felt heavenly.

Morgan smiled at him, bringing another towel up to dry off his hair. When he'd got most of the water out, he tossed that towel in a hamper before turning back to him. "Is it ok if I help you down to the bedroom? Just to help you dress and such. If you'd prefer, I can help you down there and wait outside while you change."

That feeling around Spencer's heart grew a little more, warming him on the inside. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Even so, his words still came out soft and slightly strangled sounding. "Will you help me, please? Don't…don't leave me alone."

"Of course."

Morgan's arm went around his waist, supporting him out of the bathroom and into the hall. No one else was out there but sounds were coming from the kitchen. Gently the two men moved down toward the bedroom. The closer he got to the door, the more Spencer felt himself tremble. The other rooms of the house were nothing. But this room…this room held so many memories.

He couldn't bring himself to open the door. Ashamed, he stood there and let Morgan be the one to open it. He let Morgan lead him inside.

Automatically his eyes traveled to the bed. Memories seemed to assault him all at once. Shuddering, he turned his head away, not wanting to see it. Not wanting to remember. All these memories were still to raw, too jumbled, for him to want to deal with them. They were out of order and some were still missing. Some were buried in there under the onslaught of the others, yet he knew if he thought he could pull them up. He wasn't ready to do that yet. _Will I ever be ready? Will I ever not hurt anymore?_

If Morgan noticed anything, he said nothing. A small part of Spencer remembered that about his friend and was glad to see it was still there. Morgan was the kind of guy who would push you to talk about something if he thought you needed it, but he would let a person have space or silence if that was what was needed. He'd always been good at being not just a profiler, but a friend, depending on what the situation called for. A good combination of the two.

The two men moved toward where the dresser and the closet were. When they stopped in front of the dresser, Spencer reached out, pulling open a drawer. Inside were things that seemed familiar and yet alien. Boxers, socks. Not a single matching sock in the drawer. His hand reached in, brushing against a green and grey argyle sock.

_Laughter echoed around the room as Spencer reached into the box in his lap. Christmas lights glittered around the bullpen, bringing a little festivity into the BAU. He couldn't stop his grin as he pulled out four socks, not a one of them matching, and all of them argyle. Chuckling, his eyes traveled over to Emily, who was beaming at him. "I thought you might like those." She said kindly. Leave it to her to remember something he'd said to her once, in casual conversation, about how much more comfortable argyle socks were compared to regular._

It was a pleasant memory of a better time. Spencer didn't see the smile that curved his lips. He didn't see what Morgan saw; how his features softened and his eyes grew warm.

Stepping away from Morgan's hand, Spencer used the wall to keep his balance as he opened the closet. There hung shirts, pants, sweaters, sweater vests. All the clothes that had been a part of his old life. Could he put any of them on now? To do so almost seemed like stepping back into his old life. But he wasn't the person that he used to be. He wasn't the same man anymore. The idea of clothes seemed so foreign. For so long now he'd been forced not to wear any. Told that they weren't for pets, but for Masters.

He wasn't a pet anymore. He didn't have to sit naked in a basement, freezing. He didn't have to try and huddle for warmth. If he wanted to wear clothes, he could wear them. No one was going to hurt him for it. No one would rip them off and beat him for putting them on.

Yet his hand still trembled when he took hold of a simple button up shirt. This, too, had been a gift. Touching it brought on another memory.

"_Come on, Spence. You need to branch out from the blah colors you wear. This is warm and flattering. It'll look good on you." JJ insisted._

_He looked dubiously at it. The shirt was _purple_. Actually purple. "JJ, seriously?"_

"_Just trust me on this. You'll look fantastic."_

Silently he pulled the shirt out. He let that memory fill him with its warmth. It was just voices, no images. Still, that woman's voice, JJ's voice, touched a place inside his heart. She had been right, he remembered. The shirt had looked good.

Next he took a simple pair of black slacks. Then he turned, snagging a pair of boxers from the drawer before closing it. He paused, looking at the clothes, looking at himself. Could he really stand and dress? There was no way he would go sit on the bed. No, no. The only other option was to sit on the floor. But as soon as he started to sink down, Morgan was reaching for him, bracing him up. "Woah there, kid. You ok?"

Ok? What? Confused, Spencer looked at Morgan. Then realization sank in. Morgan had thought he was _falling_. Oh. "I need to sit to dress." He said softly. It felt so strange to be talking so much. Wrong. He wasn't supposed to be talking. "I can't stand and do it."

"Well, why don't we move to the bed?"

Panic roared to life in Spencer. He felt his eyes go wide. "No!" He rasped out. His hands clutched at the bundle of clothes. "Please, no!"

The hands that had been bracing his arms were now stroking them in a soothing gesture. "Ok, ok. It's ok. We don't have to go over there. Why don't we just stand here and you let me help you? I can help you step into your clothes if you'd like."

Those calm words were enough to help Spencer gain control of the panic. He used all his will to push it back down again. Silent, he nodded at his friend and received a warm smile in return. Silently the two worked together, Spencer bracing a hand on the dresser for support while Morgan helped him into first his boxers and then his pants. Morgan even helped him pull the shirt on and button it up.

It felt so strange to be wearing clothes. So human. So…wrong. But, at the station Master had said he understood why his boy was wearing clothes. So maybe it was ok. Maybe he wouldn't get in trouble for it.

Morgan's arm was around his waist again, so gentle against the welts on his back. "Why don't we go see what Garcia made to eat, hm?"

Food. How long had it been since he had last eaten something? A small ache in his stomach told him that it had been a while. Spencer looked at Morgan and nodded.

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><p>It was absolutely heartbreaking to see how much of a shadow Spencer had become. It tore at Morgan's heart in ways he hadn't known were possible. But he pushed that down, kept that locked inside. The last thing Spencer needed was something pitying him or commenting on the changes. Morgan kept those thoughts inside and refused to let them show. He was going to be there for his best friend in any way that was needed.<p>

When he helped Spencer walked out to the dining room, he had to swallow a few times at how small the other man felt against his side. Images of Spencer in the tub popped up in his mind. The kid had looked so tiny. Just skin and bones. Already skinny to begin with, it was obvious that Spencer had lost weight while in captivity. The look was made worse by the marks that were on him. The whip marks that covered him. Scars, peppered here and there. In so many ways he looked absolutely broken.

Yet none of it was as bad as his eyes. There was so much pain there. It wasn't right that Spencer had that look to him. His pretty boy should never have had to learn that kind of pain or fear. And yes, fear was a big emotion in them. Not as strong when it was just the two of them, but still ever present.

Garcia was just setting food on the table when they came in. Her eyes lifted to them, full of sadness and love. They lit up when she saw that Spencer was clean and dressed. Surprise took over when her eyes landed on Morgan's face. More specifically, the bruise he knew had formed. For being weak, the kid sure packed a hell of a punch. He gave a barely perceptible shake of his head, telling her not to ask. Later, he would explain it to her.

"I ran to the store while you two were in the bathroom." Garcia said brightly. "Picked up some essentials. So there's scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast."

The look on Spencer's face as he stared at the food was one that Morgan knew he would remember for a long time. Part longing, part fear. As if he wanted nothing more than to dive right in and yet was waiting for it to be taken away from him.

Morgan helped him toward a chair. "Come on, let's see how good a cook my baby girl is." He said teasingly.

Once Spencer was in a chair, the other two sat as well. Almost instantly Garcia started to talk, a pleasant chatter that actually looked as if it set Spencer at ease a little. Just simple things about a movie she'd seen, or a new book she'd read. Simple, inane things. At the same time she served them all their breakfast. Morgan watched Spencer carefully, noticing how hard the younger man seemed to be concentrating. The way those wide eyes would flicker up, around the room, looking to see if someone was going to take all this away from him.

His hands shook when he picked up the fork. Morgan had to swallow another lump in his throat at how awkwardly Spencer was holding the fork, like he'd completely forgotten how to use it. The first bite that Spencer took had the younger man closing those expressive eyes. It didn't hide the sheer pleasure on his face, though.

That first bite seemed to make the rest of it easier. Spencer still watched, but his movements grew a little steadier while he ate bite by bite.

Garcia still chatted, drawing Morgan into conversation with her here and there. By the time Morgan was done with his full plate of food, Spencer had only eaten a small portion. A child's portion. Yet Morgan had a feeling that it was going to be like that for a while. Not only was food something that had probably been a luxury for him, but most likely his stomach wouldn't be able to handle too much at once.

The ringing of a cell phone broke the conversation in the room. Morgan saw Spencer jump, saw his eyes dart around the room, and he ached. He kept that inside, though, as he pulled his cell out of his pocket, checking the name on the screen. Hotch. He flipped it open. "Hey, Hotch. What's up?"

"I wanted to check in and see how things are. Garcia called me this morning to give me an update on the night but she said that he had yet to wake."

A flash of guilt came at the thought that he hadn't even called the rest of his team to update them. He'd been too wrapped up in taking care of Spencer to think of anyone else. "Ah, sorry Hotch. I didn't think, well…"

"Don't worry about it, Morgan. You had your priorities elsewhere. That's understandable. I was just hoping you might be able to tell me how he's doing."

"Yeah, just a second." Morgan pulled the phone away while he rose. He looked at Spencer, locking eyes with the kid. Eye contact seemed to be important for Spencer. "Hey, kid, I'm going to go outside and talk to Hotch for a bit, ok? I'll be back shortly."

Panic flashed over Spencer's face, quickly masked. Morgan still saw it and sought instantly to reassure him. "Garcia will stay with you and I'm only going to be right outside in the hallway, ok? No one will get anywhere near this door without me seeing them, I swear to you. Ok?"

After a moment's pause, Spencer nodded, his eyes drifting back toward his plate. Morgan hated the idea of leaving him, even for a few minutes, but he hated even more the panic that his leaving seemed to cause Spencer. Without thinking he moved to the other side of the table and squatted down by his friend's chair. "Hey, Spencer." At his soft words, Spencer's head turned toward him, one eye visible through the curtain of hair. "Would it make you more comfortable if I went in the living room instead of outside? I just need to give Hotch an update on how you are and I don't want what I say to upset you or bring on anything you don't want to think about."

This time there was surprise, followed by appreciation. "Yes, please." Spencer whispered. Then, even softer than before. "Thank you."

Morgan gave him a warm smile. "Anytime, pretty boy."

He rose and went into the living room, taking a seat on the couch and putting the phone back at his ear. "Ok, Hotch, I'm back. Sorry about that. I had to let him know where I was going and reassure him I wasn't leaving."

"That's ok." Hotch said. "It seems like he's clinging pretty tightly to you right now."

"He's pretty broken right now, Hotch. It's hard to see him this way."

"I know. How is he holding up? Did coming back to the apartment help him remember anything?"

Shock filled Morgan. Then he realized that, if Garcia had called while Spencer was still asleep, she wouldn't have been able to tell Aaron that Spencer remembered now. In quick words, Morgan summed up the events of the morning, leaving nothing out. Aaron had put the phone on speaker so that the others could hear as well; Morgan could hear them in the background. When they heard that Spencer was remembering, he'd heard their soft sounds of happiness. When he spoke of Spencer trying to shoot himself, there had been exclamations of pain.

He took them through their talk afterwards, as well as the talk in the bathroom and the bad dream Spencer had had.

"From the way he talks and the way he acts, I'd say it's safe to assume that he remembers most things, but they're not quite in order for him yet." Morgan said at the end of his story. "It's like they hit him all at once and so they're bouncing around in that brain of his, all mixed up and out of order. Some things he seems to remember when he sees an object and some he recalls without even knowing that he remembers until it comes out his mouth."

"It's a positive thing that he remembers who he is." Aaron said.

"Are you sure it's safe to have him there with him in that frame of mind?" Dave asked cautiously. "What if he tries to kill himself again?"

Morgan had already thought this one over. "He said he would try and I trust his word. The Spencer Reid I know has never gone back on his word, ever. He doesn't say something unless he means it. I have faith in that, Rossi. But, beyond that, I don't plan on leaving him alone. And I plan on getting him to visit a psychologist as soon as he's receptive to it."

The line was silent for a moment. Then Emily spoke, her voice a little thick with emotion. "At least we know he didn't technically kill those women .That's one less worry. And he's opening up to you. He'll have to talk about this with someone for him to heal."

"She's right." JJ said gently. "I'm glad he has you and Garcia there. Do you…do you think we could stop by and see him? I…I need to see him."

How would Spencer react to the others coming over? Would it be too many people for him? Would he be ok with them being there? "Do you guys think you could come in pairs?" Morgan asked slowly. He wouldn't keep his friends from Spencer; if someone tried to do that to him he would flip. But he didn't want to overwhelm his best friend. "I think too many of us at once might scare him quite a bit."

Aaron was, naturally, the one to answer. "Of course. JJ and myself will come in two hours. Then, this evening, Emily and Dave. He might react easier to us if we're split this way." By this way, he meant male and female. Morgan understood and was glad that Aaron did too. "Sounds good, Hotch, thanks."

"He's family."

From Aaron, those two words said it all. After ending the conversation and hanging up his phone, Morgan thought that Aaron had it just right. They were all a big family. And, as a family, they would get through this together. They would get Spencer through this. No matter what the cost.

* * *

><p><strong>Step: Not sure who the old friend is going to be yet. Have a general idea, but I'm going back and forth on who I want it to be lol<strong>

**Reelingthoughts: Don't worry, the angst isn't done! Coming up soon, I promise :D**

**Srienia: lol I like the bathtub scene too. Loved it as I wrote it. Kind of makes you want to be the one in the tub, eh? LoL And, idk, but I love when I'm sick and my husband washes my hair in the bath. It's so soothing and wonderful and so I incorporated that into the storyline for Reid. I hope it helped him feel good :)**

**Omgnotagain: I don't want to leave the trauma out of this because it needs to be addressed. Over the next few chaps more of his story will come out. Quite a bit in about a chapter or two.**

**Brandybash: I just had to comment back to you to say…holy cow. I saw that the next episode of CM is kind of like this and I thought to myself, wow. Just, wow lol**

**Ok, enough review answers before it gets any longer, lol. Will update more soon, I promise! I hope you enjoyed this chapter everyone!**


	16. Just Make It Stop

The dining room was filled with the sound of soft humming. Garcia stood behind Spencer's chair, a hairbrush in her hand, gently running it through his still damp hair. The gentle strokes of the brush seemed to be soothing him a little. His head was starting to bob slightly and his eyes looked like they were getting heavy. That was the first thing Morgan noticed when he came back in the room.

He and Garcia exchanged a smile over Spencer's head. "I think someone's ready to lie down for a little while." Garcia whispered.

Morgan nodded before moving to squat down by Spencer's chair. "Hey, kid? Come on. Let's get you up so we can take you to lie down."

The younger man grew tense for just a split second. Then, with one single tremble, he whispered "Couch?" It was more a plea than a question. Remembering his friend's reaction to the bed in the bedroom, Morgan swallowed down the lump in his throat and nodded. That was something they could discuss at a later time. "Yeah, kid, the couch. Come on. Will you let Garcia and I help you out there?"

Between the two of them, they got Spencer out to the couch. He didn't seem to want to let go of them, so the two sat down with him. Morgan lifted an arm, tucking Spencer right up against his side, his back against Morgan's side, his cheek resting against Morgan's arm which was lying comfortably against his chest. How it was comfortable for him to sit there with his back as injured as it was, Morgan had no idea. But he said nothing while the young man settled in. Garcia sat herself by his feet, rubbing a hand up and down his leg. He was surrounded by warmth and safety and love.

It didn't take him long to fall asleep there. Unsurprisingly, the other two soon drifted as well. It had been a long night and an exhausting morning.

Garcia was the first one to wake a few hours later. She extracted herself from the couch, stretching out muscles that ached from not sleeping in a real bed. When she turned to look at her friends once more, she was surprised to see Spencer's eyes on her. They were only half open, but there was no real sign of sleep in them. "Hey, sweetie pie." She said gently, trying to give him a smile.

"Hey." He croaked out. It made Garcia ache to hear him talk the way he did. Slightly afraid, with that rasp that hadn't been there before. As if he wasn't used to speaking. It was even harder to hear when he said more than a word or two because his words just didn't sound like him. The Spencer she'd known had used big words that sometimes confused people and had tended to ramble when you got him going. This Spencer seemed to use as few words as possible and the words he did use were almost…juvenile in comparison to how he'd once spoken.

Nervous, Garcia shifted on her feet a little. "Is there something you need, baby? Anything I can get for you?"

His answer surprised her. "Yes." His gaze moved up, locking onto her face. "You can go lie down in a real bed for a while and get some sleep. Go home for a bit, sleep in your bed, shower, change, eat. All those normal things. You don't need to sit and babysit me."

That was so like her friend that it almost had Garcia crying. "Oh, sweetie. I don't mind being here with you. I want to be here."

"I…I like having you here too. But the world can't stop for me. You need to take care of yourself or you'll end up sick. I don't want that to happen."

Just when Garcia would have protested, Morgan's deep voice joined their conversation, though he didn't even open his eyes. "He's right, baby girl. You need to get some real sleep. Step away for a little while and decompress. I'm sure Kevin is dying to see you."

"But, I want, I mean, I should be here." She cleared her throat, eyes shifting back to Spencer. "I thought I'd lost you. I guess, well, I'm just scared to leave. I'm scared you won't be here when I come back." It was hard to admit that, but it was the truth. She didn't want to leave him. Not after just getting him back.

Spencer nodded as if this was the most logical thing in the world. "But getting yourself sick from exhaustion and stress isn't going to help anyone. Go, Garcia. I'll be here when you get back. Morgan will watch over me."

"Damn right."

A reluctant smile curved Garcia's lips at Morgan's sleepy insert. She knew they were right. She really should go home and get some rest, maybe something to eat. Clean clothes. A shower. It was just so hard to make herself step away from her baby boy here. But the look Spencer was wearing told her that he understood all of that and that it was ok. That he loved her. She smiled at the man that had always been like her honorary nephew.

Sighing, she walked over and bent down, lightly kissing his forehead. She pretended to ignore his automatic flinch. "Fine. But I will be back…"

"…in the morning." Morgan cut in. His eyes opened for a second, locking on hers. "Sleep in your bed tonight, beautiful. I'll hold down the home front here."

There was no point in arguing with him. She could see that. "Fine, in the morning. But you two call me the instant you need anything. Do you hear me? Anything at all."

Only after promises from both of them that they would call for the slightest thing did Garcia finally gather her stuff and leave the apartment. Once she was gone, the two men sighed a little. It really was the best thing. The woman needed some time to step away and to gather herself once again. All of this had come as one giant shock to everyone and they were all still reeling in their own way.

Morgan knew that nothing was going to make him leave, though. There was no way he could ever bring himself to separate from Spencer again. It would physically hurt him for them to be apart now. But he didn't say that. Instead, he tried to make the mood a little lighter in the room with teasing. "You aren't thinking of trying to send me away next, are you, pretty boy?"

He hadn't been prepared for the reaction he got. Spencer's entire body went stiff and he heard the younger man's breathing speed up. Afraid, Morgan sat up a little, twisting Spencer just enough that the younger man was facing him. There was panic written plainly in Spencer's eyes and his mouth was clenched tight. "Hey, Spencer, kid, come on now." Morgan said, trying to draw him back out. "Come on, come back to me. I was just kidding around, kid. I was just trying to joke. I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave you."

A single tear slid down Spencer's cheek. "Promise?" He whispered.

Morgan brought a hand up, using one finger to wipe away the lone tear. "I promise. Unless you physically boot me out of this house, I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me, you hear me?"

Another tear fell, but the panic in Spencer's eyes receded. He leaned in, doing something the old Spencer would never have felt comfortable doing. He buried his face against Morgan's shoulder and let his tears fall. It surprised Morgan, not only because this was so out of character for Spencer, but because someone who had lived through what Spencer had lived through usually had strong boundaries around people. It would have made more sense for Spencer to be _scared_ of him and to shy away from his touch than to initiate contact and act like he felt totally safe here. Not that Morgan was complaining. If anything, he was grateful. He wanted Spencer to lean on him. He wanted to help him. _Maybe it's because he remembers out friendship and knows he can trust me. Or maybe my size is actually a good thing. He might think that I can protect him because I'm bigger than him and strong. _Either way, Morgan wasn't going to question it.

"Thank you." Spencer whispered into his shirt. His body trembled a little with emotion while his tears continued to fall. "I don't want to be alone. Please. I don't want to be alone anymore."

Morgan gently put his arms around his friend, trying to be mindful of his injuries. "You aren't, pretty boy. I'm right here with you. You're not alone anymore."

"I hate this." There was a small tremor to Spencer's words. His voice was thick with tears. "One minute I feel grateful that I'm safe. That I'm not there anymore. The next I'm terrified he's going to come for me."

"I won't let him have you. Not ever again."

Spencer kept talking as if Morgan hadn't said anything. "He did that to me before. He…let me go. Let me run." A small sob slipped past his lips. "We were at the cabin for privacy. He let me run, let me think I was free. Let me get all the way to the road. Then he caught me and dragged me back by my hair. He…he said he wanted to, to show me that I couldn't, that I'd never get free. That he'd always find me."

It took everything Morgan had not to start swearing. That sick son of a bitch. How could anyone do something like that? How could anyone do it to Spencer? In his mind he could picture Spencer running, injured, thinking that he was free. Hoping that he was free, only to find out that he wasn't. That it was all part of the game.

The two sat quietly for a while, Spencer's sobs tapering off, his body slowly stilling. Morgan knew he hadn't gone back to sleep. They just sat there as they each calmed down. But after ten minutes, they were interrupted by a soft knock on the door. The sound startled Spencer, who whimpered and curled into Morgan, his body once again tense.

"Shh, Spencer. It's ok." Morgan said soothingly, rubbing his arm. "It's just the door. I bet it's JJ and Hotch. They wanted to come see you. I forgot about the time. You feel up to seeing them?"

Spencer took a shaky breath and nodded. He allowed Morgan to move away from him, scooting into the vacated seat so that he was in the corner of the couch. Morgan gave him a sad look before he went to answer the door. Sure enough it was Aaron and JJ standing there. "Come on in, guys." He said, opening the door wider. In a low voice he warned them "He's a little jumpy right now. Take it easy."

Aaron nodded, moving in first. He'd dealt with trauma victims plenty of times and so he was prepared for what he found in the living room. It hurt, seeing a man who was like a son to him in this condition, but he kept the mask on his features so that Spencer wouldn't see it. JJ gasped softly when she stepped into the living room right behind them.

In the corner of the couch sat Spencer, knees up, arms wrapped around them. Long hair hung down over his face, making a soft shield. Through it they barely glimpsed his eyes, which were locked onto them.

Taking a seat in one of the chairs nearby, Aaron tried to stay as casual as possible, making a point to not make any sudden movements. Morgan saw that and was grateful. His boss knew what to do. It was JJ who he worried about. She looked like she would break with just a touch. Trying to smile reassuringly at her, Morgan moved to the couch, sitting down near Spencer's feet. He gently rested a hand against his friend's ankle, wanting to let him know that he was there for him. Touch, though it often startled him, seemed to be reassuring to Spencer. He soaked it up like he was starving.

"Hey, Reid." Aaron said softly. He smiled kindly, letting his expression soften to one that he would use with his son. "It's good to see you."

"Y-You too."

The soft stammer brought tears to JJ's eyes. She was still standing, her arms wrapped around her waist. Most likely to resist running over and hugging Spencer was Morgan's guess. Her voice was shaky when she said "Hi, Spence."

Spencer's head lifted just a little, letting some of the hair fall out of his face. "JJ." He breathed out. A hint of a smile was on his lips. That was all he said; just her name. But it had a single tear sliding down JJ's cheek. She moved slowly, hesitantly, but was unable to stop herself from skirting the coffee table to step up beside Spencer.

She laid a hand on his arm, almost jumping back when he flinched. Her hand hovered nervously over him, her face unsure.

"It's ok, JJ." Morgan said softly. He hated seeing her so nervous. Turning to look at Spencer, he asked "Is it ok for JJ to touch you? I think she might just want a hug. We've all missed you, kid. But if you don't want to be touched, don't worry about it. You just speak up and let us know, ok?"

Spencer nodded. His eyes tipped up to JJ. "I…I want to." He whispered. "But you shouldn't."

"Why?" JJ couldn't stop the question from coming out.

Pain leaked into Spencer's eyes, visible to them all. "I'm not clean."

Morgan and Aaron exchanged a glance, each one knowing what the younger one meant. It made Morgan ache. But JJ didn't seem to quite understand it. "I don't mind if you're a little dirty, Spence. I just, I wanted to hug you, that's all. But it's ok. You don't have to let me, I understand."

"I want to hug you too." Spencer told her honestly. His lower lip trembled slightly. "I'm just, I'm dirty. I'm dirty."

With a single look, Morgan let JJ know to step back. She did so, her hands trembling, legs shaking. Carefully she lowered herself into a chair and fought to keep her tears from falling. Oh, how she hated seeing him like this! She hated that someone had done this to her sweet Spence. He'd been so kind and innocent an now that…that was gone.

Morgan rubbed Spencer's ankle in a soothing fashion. He wouldn't push this topic now. Later, maybe, but not right now. "It's ok, kid. We don't have to do hugs right now." He said, trying to break the tension in the room. "Like I told you, everyone just wants to see you. Just seeing that you're ok is enough for us for now."

"That's right." Aaron affirmed. "What's important is that you're alive and you're safe. With time, all of us will be here to help you heal. We're going to be here for you, Reid."

A buzzing sound suddenly filled the room. Before anyone could even realize what it was that was buzzing, the room exploded with sound.

Spencer gave a guttural cry. Eyes wide, he wrenched himself off the couch, moving faster than anyone had thought he could. In a flash he was in the corner of the room, behind the end table, his body curled tight in the fetal position. For one single instant they watched him in shock.

It was Morgan who gained movement first. He shot up from the couch, darting around the end table. He moved it quickly, trying to get to his friend. "Spencer, kid!" He called out, dropping down to his knees. Spencer cried out, curling tighter into himself. The poor kid was trembling so hard he almost looked like he was going into a seizure.

The buzzing stopped, though Morgan was paying no attention to it. He barely heard the sound of JJ's voice behind him. All his attention was focused on Spencer. "Kid, it's me. Morgan. Come on, Spencer, look up at me. Look here. It's me."

"Please, don't!" Spencer croaked out. "Not again. No!"

"No one's going to do anything to you, Spencer. No one is going to hurt you. You're safe here, pretty boy. You're safe."

Spencer didn't even seem to hear him. "Don't hurt me!" he shrieked. "I won't do it again, I promise. Please, don't touch me with that! Please! I can't take it anymore. It hurts, it hurts." The last words turned into moans as Spencer started to rock in place. "Please, it hurts."

Though he hated to do it, Morgan made himself speak softly and ask "What hurts, Spencer?" He knew that, right at the moment, Spencer was trapped in a flashback. He needed to talk him out of it and to do that he needed to know what it was the kid was seeing.

"Everything." Spencer sobbed, rocking faster and faster. "Please, don't do it again. Please!"

"Do what, Spencer? What is he doing to you?"

A sob ripped past Spencer's lips. "Hurting me." He whimpered. A soft sob sounded behind Morgan; he knew it was JJ. But his eyes were on Spencer as the man spoke again. "He's hurting me. Make it stop, please."

"Spencer, I'm right here. It's Morgan with you, pretty boy. You're in your living room with Morgan." He tried to be as reassuring as possible, wanting to draw him out of this. "Talk to me, Spencer. Tell me what's going on. It's just a memory. Talk to me and let me chase it away."

"Morgan?"

"That's right. I'm right here. Talk to me, kid. I'm right here."

Another sob pulled up from Spencer. "He's…he's shocking me. Make it stop, Morgan. Make it stop, please. I can't take it anymore. It hurts, it hurts. I don't want it. I hate it. I hate it so much. It hurts and it burns and it hurts so much."

"He's not here, Spencer. He's not hurting you. You're in your apartment, remember? You're here with me and Hotch and JJ. No one's hurting you. That was just someone's cell phone vibrating. No one here is going to hurt you. You're not stuck with him anymore, pretty boy." Morgan wanted nothing more than to gather Spencer close and chase away the demons but he knew that it didn't work like that. He remembered his own panic attacks after Carl. The only way he'd been able to get beyond them was when his sisters would sit there and talk him through what was happening in the flashback and show him all the ways it wasn't real. It had been the only way he could ground himself in reality. He tried to do that for Spencer now. He prayed he was doing the right thing. "Keep talking, kid. Tell me more. Tell me what's happening."

"Morgan!" JJ gasped out. "Stop it! Don't make him think about it anymore than he has to!"

Morgan shot her a look over his shoulder. "You think he's ever _not_ thinking about it? He has to see for himself it's not real. He has to face it down to be able to pull back out of it. The more he tells me about it, the more it's going to make his brain realize he's not there. It makes him pull back which breaks the hold it has over him." He snapped out. Then he turned around, not bothering with here anymore. Aaron would take care of her. "Come on, Spencer. What do you see? What's happening to you?"

"He's so mad." Spencer whispered out. His body jerked, then started rocking again. "He's got the cattle prod. No, Morgan, please! Make him stop. Make it go away! It hurts!"

"I'm right here, Spencer. This is just a memory, remember? This isn't happening. You're out of there. Come on now, tell me. Talk to me. What's he doing now? Calm your breathing and look at it. Don't let yourself feel it. Just look at it and tell me what's going on."

"Master is furious. He says I was bad. He has to t-teach me. I-I screamed when I was supposed to be quiet. I almost got him caught. He, oh please no, he says he'll show me what it means to scream." Spencer gave another jerk, a hoarse cry coming past his lips. "I don't want to be here. It hurts, it hurts. No!"

"Spencer, Spencer! Listen to my voice. Listen to me!" Morgan snapped out. He saw Spencer jerk again at the sound of his voice but that was a good thing. It meant his voice was getting through. "Look at something else, Spencer. Use that memory of yours. Tell me, what was Master wearing?"

"What?"

"What was he wearing, Spencer? His clothes, what did they look like? Was he in day clothes? Work clothes? Pajamas?"

"D-Day clothes." Spencer stammered out. His voice sounded different, almost unsure. "Blue jeans. A shirt."

"Good, kid. That's good. What kind of shirt? What color was it?"

"Red. It…it has a pocket on the front."

Morgan nodded, watching the tension drain slowly from Spencer's frame. "Ok, that's good. What about his jeans? Were they in good condition? Torn?"

The rocking slowed a little more. "Uh…torn. The bottom left leg was fraying a little. They're old jeans. He's had them long enough to create faded patches on the stress points." A little more strength came into Spencer's voice and his body stopped rocking completely. "He's barefoot, though. No socks or shoes. He has a bandana tied around his head but there's dirt on it. Like he was working in the yard."

"Good, Spencer. That's real good. Now, one more question, ok?"

"Ok."

"Open your eyes and look at me for a minute."

To the surprise of the two behind him, Spencer did just that. His eyes opened, moving to Morgan's face. All at once it seemed that Spencer pulled out of the terror he'd been in. He gave a soft gasp, releasing the tight hold on himself. Then, without warning, he launched at Morgan. The older man was ready for him, easily catching him and wrapping him in a tight hug. "That's it, pretty boy. I've got you now. You did so good. I'm so proud of you, Spencer .You did such a good job."

Aaron shook his head with surprise while watching him. "That was…a different way of doing things, Morgan." He said with a hint of a smile.

Looking up, Morgan gave a halfhearted shrug. "My sisters used to do it for me." He said. "I wouldn't be able to break out of a panic attack by being touched or by someone calling to me. If anything, it made it worse. But if they forced me to think on other things, to look at details and talk about what was going on, it was like my mind kind of pulled back from the scene. It distanced me from it." Stumbling for words, Morgan looked down at the top of Spencer's head, which was still buried against his chest. "It, like, well…"

"…it makes you look at the small details and reroutes your focus from the panic and the pain you feel." Spencer spoke softly. He didn't move his head from Morgan's chest or loosen his grip on the older man at all. "Then, when you pay attention to those details, your brain is able to process the fact that this is not, in fact, real. With that understanding comes the ability to distance oneself from the memory and regain enough self-control to extract oneself."

That speech was such a classic Spencer speech that it had the other three profilers smiling at one another. "Yeah." Morgan said with a grin. "What he said."

"Are…are you ok now, Spence?" JJ asked hesitantly.

The young man nodded, still not looking up. His grip in Morgan's shirt had loosened slightly and he was nowhere near as tense as before. It didn't take much for Morgan to recognize what was going on. One look at Aaron showed that his boss recognized it too.

Aaron gave them a sad smile. "Why don't you two lie down for a while before Rossi and Prentiss get here?" he suggested. At JJ's look, Aaron gestured for her to stay silent. "I understand that moments like these are exhausting."

To everyone's surprise, Spencer was the one to speak up. "You, uh, you guys can come back with them." He whispered in a shaky voice. "Have dinner. Maybe we can order pizza."

Morgan looked down at Spencer, instinctively stroking a hand over his hair. "You sure, pretty boy?"

Another nod. "I can't hide from my friends, Morgan. I can't let him take them too." Spencer's voice was so quiet the other two couldn't quite understand him. But Morgan heard and he understood. Sighing, he kept his free hand stroking Spencer's hair. "Ok, pretty boy, ok. We'll have a pizza night then."

"We'll be back in a few hours." Aaron told them, taking hold of JJ's arm. He could see that the blond didn't want to leave. "You take care, Reid."

"JJ."

Spencer's soft voice stopped them. The younger man pushed away from Morgan, sitting himself up. He kept one hand on Morgan's shoulder while looking at the blond woman in his living room. There was hell in his eyes at the moment, but there was something else there as well. "Can I…" Pausing, Spencer cleared his throat, his eyes flickering to Morgan for a second as if to reassure himself the other man was staying there. Then he looked at JJ again. "Can I have a hug before you go?"

Tears immediately fell down JJ's cheeks. "Oh, Spence." She whispered. Slowly, carefully, she moved over by him and knelt down. With a gentle touch she pulled her friend, her son's Godfather, into a gentle hug. He trembled, but he did wrap one arm loosely around her, hugging her back gently at first, then slightly tighter.

After only a few seconds, though, he pulled back. JJ let him go, knowing they'd tested his comfort levels enough. Her smile was huge despite the tears that still flowed. "I love you, Spence." She whispered, touching a finger to his nose as she'd done a million times before. The gesture made him smile. "I'm so happy you're home."

While they left, Spencer let himself curl back into Morgan. For the first time he thought to himself that he might actually be happy he was home too. Maybe, just maybe, he would find a way to heal from this. One little piece at a time.

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><p><strong>Ok, so I'm not so sure how I feel about this chapter. The first half, bleh, I think it didn't turn out as good as I wanted it to, but I was just having a hard time writing it. So, sorry folks. It should be easier next chapter when everyone has dinner together. Not easier for Spencer, lol, but easier for me to write.<strong>

**As always, your reviews make me so happy. I can't believe I got over 100 reviews! All of you are awesome. You really are. Thank you so much for the encouragement and compliments; you are all wonderful people!**

**Well, anyways, R&R and we'll see you next chapter!**


	17. Pushing Back the Shadows

**LadyMidnight: thank you for your compliments! I'm not going to let anyone rush me :) I've decided I like the pace I'm at and if people don't, well, they don't have to read, right? LoL Glad you're liking it and thank you again!**

**Maryhell: I don't want to rush his recovery at all. It's a very important part of things, I think :)**

**DixonStrange: lol, you read updates at 3am too? I'm bad about that lol. I tend to stay up a little too late reading or writing sometimes :D I'm glad you liked the chapter and you're right; some chaps do come easier than others. That last one just wouldn't start off for me :P**

**Srienia: Those 'just nice' moments do seem to help break up tension in a story, I think. I'm glad you liked the panic attack :D I was wondering if my explanation would make sense to people. It's the method my friend used for me when I used to suffer from those and it really does work!**

**WinifredONiel: Ironically, your question you had for me is addressed in this chapter lmao. I'd already written that part when I read your comment and it made me giggle. So, read below for the answer! It's in there :)**

**Omgnotagain: The road to recovery in horrible situations is long and hard and I want to portray an accurate account. I suffered a DV relationship and I use the experiences I have there to write this story, so if someone of it seems real, well, part of it comes from where I've been before. I hope using that gets a real feeling to the story. **

**BrandyBash: It did make me chuckle when I saw the storyline for this CM (I just watched it, btw. Wow!) and I thought, ok, wow, that's a little spooky. :D**

**Anyways, enough taking up space for replies. Read on, my friends!**

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><p>Though their intention had been to go to sleep, neither man moved from the living room floor for a while. Both of them were in their own thoughts, drawing comfort off the presence of the other as they sat there. How long passed, they didn't know. But Morgan was the one to finally break the silence that surrounded them. "I was thinking, kid. We brought you to your place to try and help bring you back to yourself. But, in some ways, your home seems to scare you." There was a slight pause, though the hand stroking Spencer's hair never stopped. He was still lying with his head against Morgan's chest, secure and safe in his arms.<p>

Eventually Morgan spoke again, sounding almost hesitant. "What you need is a good night's sleep in a bed. Not on a couch or a floor. I understand that this place bothers you. It makes sense, really. You were taken from your home. The safety here has been violated, like with Elle when she was shot. So, I thought maybe you might like to come stay at my place for a while. Just until you feel comfortable coming back here. You don't have to if you don't want to, I mean. It's just a suggestion."

Again that silence surrounded them. Yet it wasn't uncomfortable. It wasn't terrifying for Spencer, or even awkward. It felt normal and…ok.

He let himself think about Morgan's words for a few moments. The apartment really did feel almost violated. Horrible things had happened here in the one place that he had always thought of as safe. The one haven against the terror of the world. A place where he could shut things out and hide and not be surrounded by blood and death. But that had changed now.

He knew there was no way he was going to ever be able to be in his bed. Not ever again. But, did that mean that he wanted to go to Morgan's house? Here, he was in his own space, no matter how scary it was. This place was _his_. Could he really stand to go to someone else's house and stay there? What if they didn't want to let him leave again? What if someone tried to keep him, just like Master had?

Unable to stop himself, Spencer lifted his head, his eyes seeking Morgan's. The truth to any soul was in their eyes. He'd seen that so many times over the past few years. No matter how much Master tried to hide it, his intentions were always written in his eyes. Right now, Spencer needed to see Morgan's eyes to see if he could read what was written there.

What he found left him speechless. There was compassion; that one was easily seen. A small hint of exhaustion, which meant that Morgan must be really tired for it to even show. Sadness, Spencer thought. But what stunned him the most was the love that was there. The same love that had been in JJ's eyes, and Aaron's, and Garcia's. That love and faith and warmth that he saw from the others, but brighter. Just…more. It filled parts of him, pushing back a few of the shadows, lighting up places he'd long thought were dark.

"I'd like that." He found himself answering. Though he hadn't intended on answering yet, he didn't take the words back. They were right. He would be safe at Morgan's house, under his supervision. Morgan wouldn't let anyone take him ever again.

The smile that curved Morgan's lips was beautiful. "I'll text the others and let them know to meet there for dinner, then. You want to help me gather up some stuff you'd like to take with you?"

"I don't need anything." Possessions had lost their importance to him. He'd lived without them all for so long. What was here that he would need to take anyways?

"What about clothes? You can't wear the same outfit every day."

Oh. Clothes. That had Spencer grimacing and dropping his gaze again. It was hard enough for him to sit here in the clothes he was in. The idea of taking more with him, of wearing them every day, was more difficult than he'd imagined. Even now he had to fight the urge to take them off; Master would be furious at seeing him dressed all day, all the time.

Casually, almost as if it was no big deal, Morgan stroked his hair again and told him "You know, kid, I was thinking something else. When we go in public, you have to wear clothes because it's, well, normal. We can't have you being arrested for indecent exposure." He paused and they shared a small smile. "But, here at home, or at my place, you don't have to be, well…as dressed as this. You could just throw on a pair of sweats or even walk around in boxers. I wouldn't mind that. Would it make you a little more comfortable?"

How did Morgan know just the right thing to say at just the right time? How did he know the fears that Spencer couldn't even put to words? Grateful, Spencer nodded.

"All right, then. Let's gather some clothes for when we go outside and we'll get some comfortable pants for you."

Together the two moved off the floor, Spencer trying not to wince as his body protested. His mental blocks against the pain only worked so well. He didn't so much block the pain as he'd learned how to ignore it. If you dwelled on how much you hurt, it did nothing but hurt you more. A person could go crazy that way. So he'd learned to ignore anything that wasn't life threatening. Not to mention that his tolerance had gone up in comparison to a normal person's.

The two worked together in silence, making their way to Spencer's bedroom and over to the dresser. Morgan left him there for a minute to grab a duffel bag from the closet. Then, still silent, they picked out a few slacks and shirts and even two sweater vests for outside wear. Next Spencer opened the bottom drawer on his dresser where he kept his casual, relaxing clothes.

It amazed him how many little things he was suddenly remembering. Where he stored things in his house. When he had bought some of the items. But parts of his past, memories of people and faces, seemed too hard to access. They were still so jumbled together.

Between them they gathered two pairs of sweats and three cotton plaid pajama bottoms. Morgan started chuckling suddenly. He rose, a pair of blue cotton pants in his hand. They were covered with little yellow ducks. "Ducks? Seriously?" He teased.

Though Spencer didn't smile, his eyes showed some of his mirth. "Garcia bought those for me." He said without thinking. "She said I needed something a little fun in my wardrobe."

Neither of them commented on the fact the memory had come on its own, without any blanking out or trauma. It had just slid effortlessly into his mind.

The silence was back when they put boxers into the bag, as well as socks. Though Morgan did chuckle as he pulled out a bunch of mismatched socks. They put those in and then Morgan was zipping the bag shut and slinging it over his arm. He helped Spencer back out toward the living room. "You sure there's nothing else you need, kid? A few books, maybe? I don't have your style of reading material at my house."

"No. No books." Spencer felt a quiver down in his stomach. He didn't want to think of those books. They either held too many memories of his mother or of Master. Of being made to recite them for Master even as he was being hurt.

Morgan nodded and helped him sit on the couch. Then he brought over a pair of shoes and, to Spencer's surprise, squatted down and put them on for him just like he was a kid. Spencer didn't protest to it. He lifted his eyes, looking around his apartment. It was so strange to thin that he'd been gone for so long and yet the place looked just like he'd left it.

"You guys kept my apartment." He said softly. His eyes drifted over a painting on the wall he had always loved of the ocean coast. "Everything looks the same. There…there's even power on."

When he looked back at Morgan, it surprised him to see a flush in those dark cheeks. Morgan kept his eyes on the laces he was tying as he answered. "I uh, I couldn't let it go. I never gave up on bringing you home and I didn't want you to have to come home to everything being different. So I, uh, I paid your rent and utilities. So it'd be waiting for you when you got here." His head ducked down just a little more. "I came here, every now and again, to clean and such. Keep the dust away. It made me feel…a little closer to you. Helped me keep my faith that you were alive and that we'd find you one day."

The emotion in Morgan's voice was humbling. Spencer looked at a man he had known for years and he found himself amazed once again by the depth there was to Morgan. He was so much more than what people saw. There was so much more inside of him than he let on to anyone.

Though his hand trembled, Spencer leaned forward and briefly touched a few fingers to Morgan's cheek. When his hand dropped back to his lap, he met Morgan's eyes. "Thank you."

Morgan's smile was soft and sweet. "You're welcome."

Once his shoes were tied, the two men rose again. Morgan grabbed the bag and held out a coat, helping Spencer into it. Then, just as silent as when they'd come in, the two men left the apartment and headed outside.

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><p>At the BAU, the rest of the team was meeting in the conference room, gathering together as a unit to try and process everything that had happened in such a short time frame. All of them needed to be together at that moment. They need to find a way to prepare themselves for what they were walking into. Aaron and Dave had called the meeting, hoping to prepare the others as best as possible for what they could expect at dinner. They wanted to keep the potential trauma for Spencer down to a minimum.<p>

Garcia wasn't there. Everyone had agreed, after Morgan text and told them that she had been sent home to sleep, that she needed the rest. This had been especially hard on her, being the person that Spencer had clung to the most at first and being as she was not as…hard…as the rest of them. She was a gentle soul underneath all the laughter and smiles and this had been difficult for her. They wanted her to have a chance to recuperate a little.

Standing beside the table, Aaron looked around at his other agents. His family. Dave looked slightly tired and concern was there in his eyes for those who knew how to look, but he had a determined cast to his face. Emily looked like she'd finally gained back some of her control, though Aaron had a feeling it was held together by thin threads. JJ was sitting with her head bowed, valiantly fighting back tears. This had hit her so hard and they all knew it would take her a short time to regain control of herself.

"I know that we're all eager to head over to Morgan's house." Aaron said, having received the text from Morgan saying that they were moving things over to his house just fifteen minutes before. "But I wanted a few moments to talk to you first. In a typical work-related situation, I know all of you are capable of dealing with victims. To one degree or another, we've all done it and we all have the skill. But I also know that this time is different. It isn't some victim we'll never see again. This is Reid. And that makes it infinitely harder for us."

"He…he's so broken, Hotch." JJ whispered. Her eyes lifted to him, full of a pain so strong it made the others ache just to see it. "You saw him there. Your cell phone _vibrating_ set him off into a full blown panic attack."

Before Aaron could say anything, Emily spoke up. "Flashbacks are a part of PTSD. There are going to be things that trigger him and sometimes they'll probably be things we would never even think of." Her eyes held so much for a split second; like a glimpse into that part of her they all knew she tried so hard to keep hidden. A part she never let anyone see.

Nodding, Dave leaned back in his chair. "As hard as it is for us to watch it happen, we all need to accept the fact that panic attacks will happen. There's no way around that. This is going to take a long time for Reid to even start to heal from. We're going to have to be careful, but at the same time we need to let him know that we're there for him. That we're going to be there no matter what."

"He wants to come back to us." JJ said gently. She brought a hand up, wiping at the single tear that escaped. "He's trying. When…when we left, he asked me for a hug. Even though I could tell it scared him, he still wanted that hug. For a minute he clung to me." She smiled, briefly, remembering the feel of him in her arms. It had been so wonderful to hold him and know that he was home and he was alive.

Then she remembered something else. Her eyes lifted toward the others, confusion written there. "When he hugged me, it was with just one arm. The other hand he kept on Morgan the entire time, like he was afraid to let go. I don't understand. At first he latched onto Garcia because she was the only one he could remember. That made sense. She's female and he's obviously protective of females. But this thing he has with Morgan…it doesn't make sense. From someone in his condition, shouldn't he be afraid of Morgan? He's a large, muscular alpha male."

"It does seem a little odd." Dave agreed. His eyebrows furrowed down as he thought about it. "When he went to speak with Vincent at the station and you gave him a choice of who could go with him, Hotch, I thought it was odd he chose Morgan. At the time he only remembered Garcia, and JJ's right. Morgan should have looked like a threat to him. But he chose him, the biggest and strongest of our group."

This had been part of what Aaron wanted to talk about with the team. He had his opinions on this and he wanted to share it with them. Not only so they understood, but so it made them all better prepared to deal with what they might see at dinner. He sighed before taking a seat at the table. "All of us know that Reid and Morgan had a strong friendship before Reid disappeared. Out of all of us, those two bonded the closest. Especially after losing Elle and then Gideon leaving. They just seemed to be closer. Then the case in Georgia brought them closer still."

Everyone nodded, following along with him. He linked his hands together and rested them on the table. As much as he hated opening up something that was between two other people, he felt his team needed to know. They all needed to understand.

"Before Reid disappeared, I'd been watching the two of them. I noticed that Morgan was going out to the club less and less. It was more common for him to invite Reid over for a few drinks at his house, or to grab a bite to eat. Reid also seemed a little more relaxed around everyone. Happier than he'd been in a while, really." Pausing, Aaron watched the expressions around him, seeing the recognition start. He continued talking. "Once Reid was gone, we all saw how hard Morgan was hit by it. We all were, but it hit Morgan the hardest. He kept Reid's apartment. He even kept the power on in there. There are a few times I know for a fact that he went and spent the night there."

The room was silent. Leaning forward, Emily fixed her boss with a surprise stare. "Are you telling me you think those two were…dating?"

Aaron shook his head. "No." He said firmly. "I know they weren't. That wasn't what I saw between them. What I think is that they were getting close to that stage, though. Maybe working up to admitting to themselves first. Reid…I think he accepted who he was and how he felt, but was probably terrified to say anything to Morgan. As for Morgan, I think he was getting close to admitting it to himself. If they'd had another month, I think they would have started dating."

"Wow." JJ breathed out. Her eyes were wide.

A small smile was tugging at the corner of Dave's mouth. "So, even when he didn't recognize him on a conscious level…"

"…His subconscious remembered what he felt for Morgan and knew that he was safe with him, no matter what else was going on." Aaron finished the thought.

Emily looked thunderstruck. "That was why Vincent flipped when he heard Morgan's name." Her voice was just a little hoarse. Horror had leaked out. "Reid…he probably cried out for him. Vincent probably knows exactly how Reid feels about him."

That thought filled the room for the moment, silencing them all. Each one of them felt their heart break just a little at the thought of Spencer being hurt. The idea that this monster most likely used what Spencer felt for Morgan as another way to break him.

Aaron cleared his throat, drawing attention back to their conversation. "The only reason I brought this up is because I wanted you all to understand what things will be like. Also, what kind of role we should take in things. I think that the bond between us and Reid is going to take some time to fix. He wants us to be there, but part of him can't help but be afraid. He can't help but be terrified that something is going to happen once again."

"So, what? We're just supposed to step back and let Morgan take care of everything? Just foist our friend off on him and come back when he's better?" JJ demanded. She sounded offended at the idea.

"That's not what he's saying." Dave interjected. He looked at Aaron and the two men passed a silent message. Turning back to the girls, Dave leaned in, resting his forearms on the table. "We'll be there for Reid in any way he'll let us. We'll visit him and talk to him and try to help him. We'll be there to listen. But when push comes to shove and he's terrified, we all need to understand that it's most likely going to be Morgan that he turns to. Morgan will be the one who'll get him to calm down. And, as much as we try to fix things with him and us, we need to try and let those two form this bond. It could be the one thing that will bring Reid back to us the most."

"I also wanted to prevent any hurt feelings." This comment brought all eyes back to Aaron. He gave them his serious, no-nonsense face, trying to impress the importance of this part on them. "There are going to be times that our touch or words or actions scare Reid. There may be times he doesn't even want us close to him. But, based on what I saw today, I have a feeling that won't hold for Morgan."

Emily looked over at JJ, who seemed stunned by the news, and then back to Aaron. "So basically, Morgan and maybe Garcia are the only ones who get to freely breech his little personal 'bubble' right now?" She asked. At Aaron's nod, she sighed. "Well, I guess I understand that. Some trauma victims latch onto one 'safety' person. If what you say about them is true, about how they feel and such, then it's logical that Morgan is the one he lets in."

"Just remember not to let it offend you." Voice gentle, Dave looked at his family. "Nothing Reid does is going to be with the intention of hurting us. Nothing."

When everyone nodded, Aaron let out a soft sigh of relief. That had gone a lot easier than he'd thought it would. "Ok, guys. Let's get out paperwork done." He said, rising to his feet. "In a few hours we've got an important date to keep at Morgan's house, so let's all make sure we're ready to go."

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><p><strong>Hope you all liked it! I know, crazy, so many chapters in and I'm only a couple days into Reid's rescue lol. Well, the next chapter will be their dinner together and we'll see how that goes. After that, some chapters may skim through parts of the day and other parts may be long. We'll see. I promise not to rush things, though. A good chunk of this fic is healing before more…action…starts back up. Ahem. Ok, don't want to give anything away.<strong>

**Oh, and I was going to say, anyone who wants to, let me know who you think the 'old friend' should be. Gideon? Elle? Ethan? Or maybe a character I make up? Opinions are always welcome! Thanks for reading and for sticking by me. Please, R&R! I love your reviews :)**


	18. A Little Bit of Peace

**Just a little simple chapter, I think. Not much, but I'm eager to write the next chapter. But I hope this lived up to expectations. I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter lol I guess we'll see. Thanks! And please R&R!**

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><p>Clad only in a simple pair of red plaid pajama pants, cinched tight at the waist to keep them on, Spencer Reid wandered through Morgan's house. The feeling of being able to move freely was frightening and yet amazing all at the same time. He didn't know what to do with so much <em>freedom<em>. To be able to walk and stretch his legs without asking for permission; to go into a room and be able to see all the exits and know that, if he wanted, he was free to use any of them. It was just…amazing. There was no other word for it.

Yet, at the same time, it was almost too much. Too much freedom, too much space. Too much everything. For so long his world had consisted of one room in which he hadn't even been allowed the freedom to move as he wished. He'd either been forced to stand in one space, or chained to another, or strung up in the center.

Spencer shuddered slightly and wrapped his arms around his waist. He didn't want to think about that right now. He didn't want to picture that room.

He glanced over his shoulder, making sure that he could still easily see the entrance to the living room, which was where Morgan was. After they'd come into Morgan's house and set their stuff down, Morgan had told him he was free to tour the house. Then he'd smiled and taken a seat on the couch, picking up a book from the end table and telling him "I'll sit here and read for a bit. We've probably got about an hour left until the others start to show up. Feel free to walk around, take a look at things. Make yourself at home. Bathroom's the second door on the right if you need to, you know, take care of business." Almost as an afterthought, he'd added "Oh, and you can change if you want. Remember what I said before. You can dress as comfortably as you want here."

That had been the first thing Spencer had done. Right there in the entry way he'd stripped out of his clothes, using the way to support him, and had pulled on a pair of pajama pants. He'd stayed quiet even when his aches sprang to life. For some reason it was important to him to do this on his own.

It felt so much better to be wearing only cotton pants. Sure, he had to tie off the strings just to keep them up, but he didn't feel so constricted. Then, with a shy, unsure look to Morgan, who was still reading, Spencer had set off down the hall.

He had stopped off in the bathroom, telling himself that he didn't need to ask permission. Morgan had told him where the bathroom was and that he could use it. That meant he didn't have to ask. Still, it was awkward to be in there alone. He couldn't bring himself to shut the door all the way. As soon as he'd finished and had washed his hands, he'd hurried back out into the hallway, checking to make sure that Morgan hadn't left.

It felt increasingly strange to look in the doors in the hallway. But Morgan had told him to take a look at things and it was too ingrained in Spencer to follow orders. Simple comments in his world were meant as orders. Noting was said lightly. If he was told to look around, that was what he would do. So he checked each door, finding an office, a guest room, the bathroom, a hall closet, and the master bedroom. He couldn't bring himself to go inside any of them, though. That would take him out of sight of Morgan and he wanted—_needed_—to be able to see Morgan. To know that he was still safe.

Slowly he made his way back down the hall and toward the dining room. The floor was cold underneath his feet, a sensation he was well used to, and he was starting to ache a little more. His back and his backside hurt the most. When he looked in the dining room, though, he wiped away the pain. In its place came longing.

Morgan had patio doors in his dining room. Through them, Spencer saw the wide expanse of grass, perfectly fenced in. There was a large tree back there that seemed to shine in the setting sun.

There had been so many things going on over the past two days that Spencer hadn't paid any real attention while he was outside. But here, now, he couldn't help but move to the glass door and stare. The sun was low in the sky, not quite setting yet. His brain told him it would be another hour and a half until the sunset really hit. But it was so beautiful out there.

The longing took the place of his fear, pushing it down just enough for him to ask a question he wouldn't have dared to ask otherwise. "Morgan. Can…can I go outside?"

There was the sound of footsteps, stopping a little ways behind him. On the other side of the table, Spencer guessed. "Yeah, Spencer. Go ahead. You're free to do what you want here."

His breath caught in his throat. The hand he lifted to the patio door was trembling, but it wasn't out of fear. This time it was out of anticipation. He pulled the door open and forced his feet to move outside. Across the patio and then, with one last tremble, onto the grass.

The feel of the soft grass underneath his feet was like heaven. He didn't pay attention to the chill under his feet or in the air. He just walked across the grass until he was standing in the sunshine.

Spencer felt a small sigh slip past his lips. He tipped his face up to let the warmth of the sun wash over him. Tension drained slowly out of him. The feel of the sun on his skin was better than any drug. He closed his eyes, awash in sensation. The cool breeze brushing his skin. The warmth of the sun, heating his skin just slightly. The sound of leaves rustling on the tree. Somewhere in the distance a car was driving past. There was the sound of children playing a few houses down.

Life. It was the sounds of life around him.

A true smile curved his lips. Behind him, he heard Morgan stepping onto the patio. Heard a sound that said that the older man had taken a seat on one of the chairs there. That was fine. Spencer liked that he was there. It made the experience seem so much better, actually.

"I didn't see the sun that often." Spencer kept his eyes closed and his face lifted. "I judged time by when he was with me and when he wasn't. The few times I came upstairs or that we traveled to the cabin, I never had the time to enjoy it. Or he would blindfold me."

A bird chattered in the tree, letting out its soft song into the evening air.

"You forget how heavenly the sun feels. How absolutely intoxicating it can be." That was a good word for it. Intoxicating. Like he was drunk from the rays of the sun. "To stand here and hear the sounds around you. To listen to children laugh and birds singing. To feel the sun and the breeze. Those things, you take for granted. But I won't. Not ever again."

Where he got the courage to speak so much or so bluntly, he didn't know. But it felt right. That was what mattered at that moment. It felt right.

Dropping his face back down, Spencer turned to look at the dark man sitting in a patio chair. There was a smile on Morgan's lips that had Spencer's own lips wanting to quirk in return. "You want to maybe set up some blankets out here and eat outside? I'm sure the others wouldn't mind. It's pretty warm this evening."

This time Spencer couldn't stop the little smile he felt. It was nowhere near what it had used to be, but it was there. "Really?"

"Really." Morgan rose from his chair. "I've got to go call in for the pizza, so I'll snag some blankets while I'm in there. You can help me spread them out before everyone gets here." Pausing by the door, Morgan looked back at him. "You want a shirt or a sweater or something, pretty boy? You might get awfully cold as you are."

Worrying his lip between his teeth, Spencer looked down at the ground, trying his hardest to resist the urge to say yes and take what could be considered a veiled command. Instead of letting himself do that, he worked up just enough bravery to ask "Do I have to?"

Tension drained from him with Morgan's light hearted reply. "Nope. Just thought I'd offer. If you get cold, you know where your bag is and where your shirts are."

The doorbell rang then, startling the both of them. Spencer bit his lip and turned his face back toward the sun while Morgan went to answer the door. This was an important night tonight. Spencer knew that. He understood. It was why he had told JJ and Aaron they could come over with the others. Why he'd suggested a group dinner.

These people had, at one point in time, been the most important people in his life, aside from his mother. Though he didn't remember everything and what he did remember wasn't necessarily in the right order, there was no doubting the emotion he'd felt for these people. The love and respect that had existed amongst the group. That was something that Spencer ached to feel again. More than anything else in the world he simply wanted to feel normal.

Part of his brain, a part that worked off of logic, completely understood what had happened to him and that it was wrong. The other part of his brain, though, was bigger and more in control. That part told him that Master would find him and hurt him. Master would most likely kill him.

But, oh, wasn't it worth it, simply to have this time with those he loved? To feel human one last time?

A warm female laugh drew Spencer from his thoughts. He dropped his head to look over to the patio. There stood Emily with her arms loaded down with what looked like quilts. A beautiful smile was on her face. _Pretty lady_ Spencer thought to himself _I had that part right, at least. She always has been a pretty lady. Inside and out._

"You spending a little time sun worshipping?" Emily teased him lightly. She walked out onto the grass, toeing off her shoes at the edge of the patio. When she was close to him, she tossed the quilts down onto the grass before bending and pulling off her socks. Those she threw in the direction of her shoes. She shook her hair back and tipped her head up, mirroring the pose he'd been in before. "It sure is a beautiful evening to do it with."

Spencer watched her face for a moment, seeing the enjoyment she felt as the sun warmed her skin. The smile she wore was real. Honest. That was one thing he loved about Emily. She was the type of person that may have stressed about something or she may have been hurting inside, but she could find enjoyment in almost any situation in her life. He had always wondered how she'd done it. Now…now he knew.

One of her eyes peeked open to look at him. "I don't have something on my face, do I?" she asked.

A ghost of a smile flittered over Spencer's lips. "No." He said. Turning, he too lifted his face back up, letting his skin grow warmer and warmer. "I was just thinking."

"Mm. Thinking is good sometimes."

"I used to think about you a lot." Spencer sighed, lifting his arms just slightly. "I would lie there and think of all of you. I'd remember how, no matter what happened to you, you always found a way to smile. You always found something in life to enjoy. I never understood before how you managed to do it. But now? Now I understand. It became my mantra to find something good in every single day, no matter what it was. There was always something positive to cling to, even when I couldn't remember you guys anymore. I still found something." He let his arms drop, that smile still just barely visible on his lips. "Today, there's more to be happy about than I knew was possible."

Opening his eyes, he turned and looked at his friend. "Let's set up the blankets."

* * *

><p>From inside the house, Morgan watched the two friends soaking up the rays of the sun. Spencer's soft words just barely floated into the house. Morgan held perfectly still as he listened. When the two moved to start laying out the quilts, Morgan backed away from the door, smiling. This had been a good idea. Not only the dinner, but the having it outside part. Maybe being outside would make it a little easier for Spencer. Make him feel less confined. In the house, there was the chance that too many people would overwhelm him or make him feel cornered. But in the backyard there was so much space and plenty of escape routes if the kid felt he needed one.<p>

The doorbell rang again. Morgan knew the pizza wasn't there yet, he'd only ordered it five minutes ago, which meant that another member of the team must have arrived. Sure enough, his friends were there. Behind the two men, JJ shook a tin and called out "I brought cookies!"

"And I brought the wine!" Dave chimed in, stepping through the open front door. Behind him JJ let out her musical laugh. "Rossi, you _always_ bring the wine." She teased him.

"It's the Italian in him." Aaron said.

Laughing, Morgan gestured them all to come in, reaching around and shutting the door behind JJ. His eyes traveled to the patio door, watching as Spencer and Emily debated the way to lay out one of their blankets. Good, they were distracted. He took advantage of that to shepherd the others into the kitchen under the pretense of pouring them all some wine.

As he took the glasses out, Morgan checked out the window once again an then turned his attention to the others. "I wanted to snag you guys in here real quick." He said, laying out the glasses on the counter and letting Dave deal with the wine. "I really hope you guys don't mind, but we're going to eat outside. Spencer and Prentiss are out there setting up quilts to sit on."

"A pizza picnic?" JJ asked, lips curving. "Sounds like fun to me."

Understanding was on both Dave and Aaron's faces. They didn't need an explanation to understand Spencer's need to be out there. That was one of the benefits with being around such talented profilers. Sometimes you didn't really have to say anything. They already knew.

But there was something else he wanted to say. "One other thing, before we go out there. I know you guys have a hard time seeing, well, seeing his back and such like that. I know how bad it looks." _Horrible, absolutely horrible. A mess of bruises and cuts and scars. _"But Spencer was getting really uncomfortable in the shirt and pants from earlier. Part of it is I think it hurts his skin. But the other part of it…"

"He's used to being forced to be without clothes." Dave finished for him. He handed out the glasses to each one as he poured them. "So his brain was probably driving him crazy at being in so many articles of clothing."

Morgan took his glass from his friend's hand with a smile. "Yeah, he was. So I made him a deal. Out in public, full clothes. No arguing there. But at home, he's free to dress in boxers, pajama pants, whatever is comfortable for him. I told him I don't mind. So he's out there in pajama pants right now. I just wanted to give you a heads up at his lack of clothes and so you don't flip too much when you see him. He looks pretty beat up and he's lost weight."

A hand rested on Morgan's arm, drawing his eyes back up from the wine in his glass. He was surprised to find that it was Aaron who was there, trying to reassure him. "We love him too, Morgan. He's our family. We'll be gentle, don't worry."\

Dave raised his glass. "To family."

Together, the group smiled, raising their glasses to clink them together. "To family."

* * *

><p>Once they had the blankets set out perfectly—spaced apart just the way they wanted them to be. Who knew that would be such an argument?—the two friends claimed one blanket, stretching themselves out on it. Spencer had to carefully lower himself down, trying to avoid jostling the injures on his body. He couldn't resist a wince when his backside met the ground, though.<p>

Unconsciously he shifted. Instead of lying on his back, he ended on his stomach, his arms folded to rest underneath his chin. It left the whole backside of him exposed to the sun, which felt wonderful, and allowed him to watch toward the patio where the others were slowly starting to come outside.

There were two large quilts spread out, which made it easy to divide up. Morgan came over to sit down beside Spencer, which made Spencer sigh with relief. He'd wanted Morgan beside him. On the other blanket, which was between Spencer's blanket and the patio and just a little to the right, sat JJ, Aaron and Dave. Everyone carried a glass of wine, JJ had two—she handed one to Emily—and they were all smiling.

Emily had stretched out on her stomach right beside Spencer so that their shoulders were close to touching. He found that he didn't mind. She wasn't so close as to invade his space, but close enough that he could enjoy her presence there.

"You two look like you're sure enjoying the sun." JJ teased them.

Laughing, Emily winked at her. "Come on now, Jayje. I'm surprised you haven't kicked your shoes off and lay down yet."

"Maybe after dinner. I'm too hungry to play at the moment."

As if to answer her pleas, they all heard the doorbell again. JJ hopped to her feet, grinning. "Pizza!" she exclaimed. Laughter echoed through the backyard as Morgan rose and followed her toward the house to get their pizza. The others shook their heads in amusement.

Trying to keep himself relaxed, Spencer looked at his friends, his eyes traveling over them. They'd changed in little ways since he'd been gone. Nothing that was severe; but there were little things. A little more gray to Dave's hair. A few more stress lines to Aaron's face. The shadows in Emily's eyes that were deeper than ever or the bubbliness mixed with seriousness that had become more pronounced in JJ. It hurt to think he might have been the cause of some of this.

He saw Dave's small smile and realized that he'd been caught staring. Working up his courage—these were his friends! He was safe!—he finally said "Hey, Rossi. You…you look good."

"I don't know about that. A little grayer, maybe." But his smile said there was no sting to the words.

Emily cocked her head at him and grinned. "Makes you look dignified, Rossi. Gives you a little class."

"Are you trying to say I didn't have class before?"

The familiar taunting washed over Spencer and did more to loosen his muscles than anything else had. He found himself actually wanting to smile when he met Aaron's eyes.

Then sound was around them, heralding the backyard with the arrival of the pizza. Conversation seemed to flow quickly then. Spencer sat up so that he could eat, balancing a plate on his lap with pizza on it. He looked down at the food, unsure about eating. He'd already eaten more today than he usually did in a day. Would he get in trouble for eating more? Would his stomach even be able to handle it?

"There is nothing wrong with cats!" Emily was saying beside him, distracting Spencer from his pizza. He looked over to see Emily and Dave engaged in an argument. He felt himself start to tense slightly, eyes going just a little wide, but he felt a hand on his arm, making him turn to look. Morgan was right beside him, his expression calm. "They're just playing, pretty boy." He murmured low enough that only Spencer could hear. "That's all. Just a play argument."

Oh. Spencer's eyes moved back toward them, then back to Morgan. "Why?" he asked. The idea of arguing for the sake of playing didn't make any sense. Arguments were terrifying things where people yelled and someone got hurt. How could that be considered playing? How was that any fun?

"Well, for fun. They're not really arguing, so to speak. More like, they're teasing each other. I guess teasing is a better word for it than arguing."

This all seemed so confusing. Strange. Spencer looked back at his friends and found himself unconsciously scooting just a little closer to Morgan. It wasn't that he didn't trust them. He did! It was just, well…he would see where this 'play argument' went. And just in case it ended up not going the way Morgan said, well, Spencer wasn't going to be caught in the middle.

"You're awfully quiet, Spence." JJ's voice drew him into the conversation and out of his thoughts. She smiled as she used a napkin to wipe pizza sauce off her face. "Are we talking too much for you?"

Too much? He quickly shook his head. "No." He reassured her. "I…I want you to talk." Unable to help himself, he looked to Morgan for reassurance, lip caught nervously between his teeth. It was only when Morgan nodded encouragingly that Spencer looked back at everyone. "I, uh, I'd love to hear about how you all are. What happened while I was gone and...and things like that."

JJ's smile, if anything, grew wider. "Well, you do realize you just asked a mother to talk about herself, right? That means pictures."

So that was how Spencer found himself looking at a whole deluge of photos. First JJ's pictures of her and Will and Henry. Oh man, Henry had gotten so _big_. It almost brought tears to Spencer's eyes to see his Godson. Then there were pictures of Aaron and Jack. Even Emily and Dave had a few team pictures. They told stories of things the group had done or things the children had done. They talked about cases and about moments they'd wished he'd been there for.

By the time the others were done eating, the sun had started to set. Spencer had long since given up on his piece of pizza. He'd gotten half of it down before he'd started to feel nauseous and had set it aside. Then he'd leaned a little closer to Morgan, happy when the older man had wrapped an arm around him and snuggled him close.

When he'd started to drift, Spencer didn't know. But the sounds of their voices started to blend together and he found himself fighting to keep his eyes open and his attention focused on them. He didn't realize how badly he'd lost the battle until Morgan was shifting him, his voice a low murmur in the chilly air. "Come on, kid. You're almost totally asleep out here. Let's get you in a nice, warm bed, hm?"

That sounded wonderful. A bed. For the first time in a long time, he would sleep in a bed. It seemed almost decadent.

Warm hands helped him to his feet, but Spencer was beyond tired. He couldn't seem to wake himself up enough to even stand steady. Thankfully, Morgan's hands never left him. They just kept supporting him. Vaguely he heard the others saying their goodbyes and wishes for sweet dreams and he thought he might have mumbled something back, but he couldn't be sure. Then Morgan was helping him forward and Spencer really just wanted to go back to sleep. It felt peaceful in sleep. His thoughts weren't as hard an sharp. It was almost like he was numb.

"I've got a guestroom here, pretty boy. Or, I know you get a little scared. You can come sleep down in my room if you want. I'll take the floor or something."

The floor? "Don't." he muttered.

"Don't what, Spencer?"

"Don't take the floor. Just…stay with me…please…"

There was a pause and then Morgan spoke in a voice tight with emotion. "Always."

After that, Spencer really didn't remember much more. He felt himself being lowered into a soft surface but beyond that…nothing. He was out before Morgan even finished tucking him into the bed.


	19. Hold You All Through The Night

**Ok, I know this chapter may be a little short, but I needed to get them through the night. I guess this could have been at the end of the last chapter, but I didn't think it worked right that way, so here it is. Like I said, just a chapter to get them through the night and into the next day. I'll be posting the next chapter rather quickly, as I've already got half of it done, lol. If there's any errors anywhere in my story, please, feel free to point them out! I have no beta, lol (if anyone wants to, I'm open to having one!) and so all mistakes are mine and mine alone. Plus, I wrote and edited this chapter in about an hour, so if it's not perfect, that's why, lol. I usually write my chapters in one sitting. Anyways, hopefully the next chap will be up by tomorrow night. So, enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Getting Spencer into bed had been absolutely easy. After the way Spencer had reacted to just the idea of sitting on his bed in his apartment, Morgan had been worried that it would be beds in general that bothered the younger man. That would have been extremely difficult to work around; the kid was too injured to constantly sleep on a couch or to sleep on a floor. But apparently he'd worried for no reason. Spencer easily lay down in the big bed, allowing Morgan to tuck the blankets around him.<p>

Looking down at his sleeping figure, Morgan thought about the way Spencer had reacted to his bed and how calm he'd been around this one. Maybe it was just because Spencer didn't feel safe or comfortable in his own apartment? He had been attacked there. Or…God, maybe the man had taken Spencer back to his bed; maybe he had done something there before taking him out of the apartment. That would explain why Spencer wouldn't go near his bed. The thought made Morgan sick. To not only have your home violated, but to have it happen in your own bed, the place you were usually your most vulnerable…it was horrible and terrifying.

He pushed those thoughts back. Getting angry about what had happened in the past was not going to help anything now. Over and over he told himself that as he changed into a t-shirt and pajama pants that he rarely ever used. Usually he slept in boxers. He knew that wouldn't be a good idea if he was sharing a bed with Spencer.

Sharing a bed with him. That was just as surprising as the rest of it. He'd understood Spencer wanting him to be with him. Was he really going to be ok with them being in the same bed? Sometimes he couldn't stop himself from wondering when this comfort that existed between one another was going to disappear. It seemed like it was too good to be true. Could Spencer really feel that safe around him that he wasn't going to panic like he did with everyone else? Or was this going to be the calm before the storm? Morgan was terrified he was going to do something that would scare the younger man and the trust they shared would be shattered.

No. He couldn't live constantly in fear that he'd do something wrong. If he did, that would only cause more damage. Right now he just had to take each day as it came and pray that he would do things right. And if things did change and Spencer became scared of him, well, they would work past that. He was not going to let this man bottle things up and try to heal on his own. He was going to be there for him, no matter what.

With that firm thought, Morgan climbed into the other side of the bed, sliding under the covers. A small lamp still burned on the other side of the room, giving them a dim light. He knew Spencer hated the dark. He'd always hated the dark.

It had been so good to see him opening up just a little with the team. True, he'd barely spoken. But he'd soaked up their words like they were water. Everything they'd talked about, Spencer had been absorbed in listening to. The kid had wanted to know everything he'd missed.

A few times Morgan had seen one of the team look at Spencer, catching sight of one of the multitude of marks on him and they would flinch just slightly. It was hard to see. Hard to look at those marks and know what the man had lived with. Morgan had an extremely hard time looking at it without feeling the guilt that still sat inside him. If only they had been able to find him! If only he'd been rescued sooner. In the end, it hadn't even been them that had found him. He was only here now because of luck on a police raid. If that hadn't happened, they might never have found their young friend.

Morgan reached a hand out, brushing back a strand of hair from Spencer's face. "We failed you before, pretty boy." He whispered into the dark. "I won't let it happen again."

Slowly, Morgan drifted off to sleep. The last thing he saw before his eyes closed completely was Spencer's sleeping face. The kid looked more at peace than he had since he'd been found.

* * *

><p>Hours later, the first nightmare of the night woke Morgan. He felt Spencer thrashing around in the bed, moaning in his sleep. Rolling over, Morgan hesitated, trying to figure out how to wake the man out of his night terror without scaring him more. "Spencer, hey, come on now." Morgan called out, not sure if he should touch him or not. "Come on, kid, wake up. Come on now." It was obvious, though, that the words weren't getting through. Spencer's face was screwed up like he was in pain and his body was jerking. He was whimpering in time with each jerk in a way that had Morgan's stomach rolling. It was like he was watching the kid being whipped.<p>

He couldn't just sit there. So he reached a hand out, touching Spencer's arm, intending on calling out to him again. Almost instantly Spencer's body went still and his eyes shot open to lock, wide and terrified, on Morgan's face.

"Hey, hey, it's Morgan. It's just me." Morgan quickly said. "You had a nightmare, kid. That's all. You're at my house, remember? You're safe. Everything's ok."

Spencer looked like he was frozen in place. His body was tight as a bowstring and his eyes were so wide they seemed to take up most of his face. "Morgan?" He croaked out, his mouth barely moving.

"That's right. You're with me, Spencer. You're safe."

They were lying face to face, staring at one another. Morgan watched as those wide eyes slid closed and Spencer's face seemed to go tight, like he was working on holding everything inside. Morgan couldn't resist running his hand up and down Spencer's arm, trying to soothe him. "You want to talk about it, pretty boy? You don't have to, but it might help. Sometimes talking about it takes it away."

"It won't ever go away."

Spencer's pained whisper was soft and yet it was packed full of emotion. In the dim light, Morgan saw a tear drop from Spencer's eye, down onto the pillow. The older man wished he could chase away that pain for his friend. "I'm sorry, Spencer."

Still keeping his eyes closed, Spencer shifted his body, though he still stayed curled into the small ball he'd been sleeping in. "I…I was there." Spencer suddenly whispered. His words throbbed with the pain that was in them. "He, he was so _mad_. I was a bad boy, but I didn't know why. I didn't know what I did. He was telling me I knew what I did and I begged him to tell me so, so I could fix it. I didn't know."

The tears were coming now, faster and faster. Morgan said nothing. He didn't want to say anything that might stop Spencer from talking about this. He _needed_ to talk about it.

"When I…when I told him again that I didn't know, he was _furious_. He thought I was being deliberately obtuse. So he grabbed the, the b-bull w-whip. It wasn't as, as long as some, but it hurt. He, he wouldn't stop. I screamed and I screamed and he just, he wouldn't stop." The tears were pouring from Spencer now and his words cut off under a strangled sob.

Morgan wished he could gather him close and hold him without terrifying him. "Oh, kid. You're safe now, you hear me? He's not going to hurt you anymore. I won't let him."

Bringing his hands up, Spencer covered his face. "I tried so hard to be good, Morgan. I tried!"

"I know you did, sugar. I know." Morgan moved his hand, rubbing at the back of Spencer's neck, intending on only trying to ease the tension there. Spencer reacted as if Morgan had pulled at him, though. He suddenly uncurled his body and practically shot forward to Morgan's chest. The older man enfolded him in a comforting hug, letting him cry.

He held tight, whispering soothing words as Spencer sobbed against him. After a while, after the sobs finally stopped, he felt the body in his arms go limp. Spencer had cried himself back to sleep. Still he held him, keeping them close together, crying his own silent tears for his friend's pain. Eventually he, too, fell back asleep.

Nightmares woke them three more times that night. After the first one, Spencer didn't speak about what he dreamed about. He just cried against Morgan's chest until he finally drifted off to sleep. It made for a long night for them both. So when his cell phone rang in the morning, Morgan almost didn't want to answer it.

Somehow he forced his eyes open enough to look at the nightstand where his cell sat ringing, the ringtone turned down low. After Spencer's reaction to the vibrations of Aaron's cell, Morgan had put his own phone on sound. He wasn't going to risk scaring Spencer.

Lying on his back, Morgan had Spencer against one side, his arm around him and Spencer's head pillowed on his shoulders. He used his free hand to reach out and open his phone before the sound could wake his friend. Exhausted, he brought the cell to his ear. "'Lo?"

"Hey, Morgan. Just checking in on things over there." Emily's voice came over the line, too happy sounding for Morgan's tired ears. He barely resisted scowling at the air. "Sleeping." He grunted back at her.

"Sleeping? It's like, almost eleven in the morning, Morgan!"

Really? Well, hell, they'd slept in late, hadn't they? But they'd been up a good chunk of the night, off and on. "Long night, Prentiss. We didn't really get a lot of sleep."

"Oh." Soft first, and then "Is he ok?"

"Yeah, just nightmares. He's sleeping now, though." He looked down at Spencer's sleeping face, checking on the truth of his words. He didn't want to wake him by talking or anything like that. Sure enough, Spencer was still out, his face slack with sleep. It made him look so young and so innocent.

Emily's voice interrupted his thoughts. "His release paperwork said that he would probably end up sleeping quite a bit. His body was bordering on severe exhaustion. I'm surprised he stayed up as long as he did. I guess now that he feels safe, his body is telling him it's time to sleep and recover. Don't be surprised if he sleeps most of the day away."

"I won't mind. What's important is taking care of him. If sleep is what he needs, then it's what he'll get." Pausing, Morgan tried to make his brain a little more alert. "How are things going with work? We having any problems with Spencer's, ah, confession? Or with Vincent?"

"They've got Vincent in jail right now. Hotch said that he and Rossi checked out some of the tapes from Vincent's house. Most of it was logged away on his computer, though. They got Garcia to access his computer at our office and show them how to open things and then they kicked her out, refusing to let her see what was on them. They said there's video to back up Reid's story about not actually killing the women. Just, watching them as they died. No one is going to convict him on that."

"They sure as hell won't!" Morgan snapped out. He felt Spencer shift against him and mentally cursed himself. Bending the arm that was around Spencer, he stroked the man's hair, soothing him back down. In a quieter voice he said "They couldn't get anything on him anyways. So they've got the proof they need to lock Vincent away?"

"Oh yeah. Hotch and Rossi wouldn't let me watch either but they came out pretty pale and said there's plenty on there to get him away for life. With video evidence, they won't even need Spencer to testify against him. Thank God for that. He'll never have to see the bastard again."

In some ways, it seemed too easy. "I wish I could get him alone and show him what it feels like. Give him a scar to match every damn one he left on Spencer."

"You and me both, Morgan. You and me both." Emily agreed in a hard voice. Then she let out a soft sigh. "Oh, well, like I said, I just wanted to check up on you guys. Want me to alert the troops to stay back today so you two can just rest? It sounds like it's what he needs."

"Could you?" Morgan shifted a little, his exhaustion starting to come back. "I think it's exactly what he needs. What all of us need. A day away from this to just sleep."

"No problem, Morgan. You take care of our boy, you hear? And yourself, too. I'll talk to you later."

"Later, Prentiss."

Once his phone was closed and back on the nightstand, Morgan settled back into the bed. A soft movement against his chest alerted him that Spencer was awake. He looked down into warm, sleepy eyes. "Well hey there, pretty boy."

Spencer licked his lips before saying "Hey."

"Just go back to sleep, kid. I didn't mean to wake you. Prentiss was just calling to check in on us." Morgan reassured him. He kept stroking his hair, hoping to soothe him back down. It was easy to see that Spencer was still drained.

Nodding softly, Spencer snuggled in even closer, readjusting himself until he was comfortable. Once again Morgan found himself marveling at exactly how comfortable Spencer was with him. It constantly amazed him.

He didn't realize he'd spoken his thoughts aloud until he heard Spencer's mumbled reply "I know you won't hurt me. I trust you, Derek."

As Spencer slid back into sleep, Morgan looked down at him with a smile. His own thoughts were pleasant as he too drifted back to sleep.


	20. Today, Kid, We're Lazy

Warmth surrounded Spencer when he woke. There was no moment of disorientation. He knew who he was and he knew where he was. In Morgan's bed, in Morgan's _arms_. Spencer had learned to turn his brain on almost the instant his body woke up as a means of survival quite a while ago. He wasn't always successful, especially if nightmares plagued his sleep, but if he actually slept, he would wake in an instant in the morning. _Or, afternoon_, he thought to himself as his eyes traveled the room. A glance to the clock on the wall told him it was ten after noon. Wow. They'd slept…a lot.

What made it worse was that Spencer felt like he could easily go back to sleep. But if he went back to sleep there was always a chance of nightmares. They had woken him up through the night; he knew that they waited just under the surface, waiting to ambush him the instant he gave in to sleep.

When they'd arrived at Morgan's house the previous day, Spencer hadn't been sure if he'd be able to sleep in any bed in Morgan's house. After what had happened in his own bed, he hadn't known if he'd be able to handle _any_ bed. Just seeing the bed in his apartment had been terrifying. To touch it? No, no. Yet he felt none of those things about Morgan's bed, which told him that it was just the one in his home. _That makes sense_ he told himself. _You know exactly why._

He did know why. Even if he'd forgotten, his dreams would have reminded him.

"You think any louder and you'll give the both of us a headache." Morgan's teasing voice was low and warm.

The sound of his voice in the silent room had Spencer startling, but almost immediately he settled back down. There was no one else in the house. Just Morgan. That triggered a random thought and had Spencer tilting his head up to look at Morgan's face. "Where's Clooney?" he asked. Realizing that he'd spoken without permission—asking a _question_ of all things!—Spencer flinched yet again, sure he was going to get in trouble. Stupid, stupid!

Morgan didn't even move, though. His eyes stayed closed, though his lips curved slightly. "At my neighbors. Before we left the station to go to your apartment, I called the neighbor and asked him to watch Clooney for me for a few days. He usually does it for me."

Digesting that information, Spencer looked back down, his eyes traveling over Morgan's shirt. He wanted to ask another question, but he was afraid of pushing his luck. Morgan hadn't gotten mad at him so far. He didn't want to push it and finally do something to piss the older man off.

"Just ask, kid."

Surprise, Spencer's eyes widened. How on earth had Morgan known he had another question? He didn't think on it long, not wanting Morgan to think he wasn't going to follow orders. "Why didn't you bring him home once you knew you were coming home?" he whispered.

"I thought he'd scare you, honestly. I remember how little you and animals seem to get along."

That had Spencer wanting to smile. The idea that his friend had remembered that kind of small detail about him was…sweet. "I don't mind if he's here. He's your dog. He should be with you." His voice was quiet yet he knew Morgan heard him. The arm that was wrapped around him gave a gentle squeeze. "I'll call later." Morgan assured him. Though he wasn't looking at him, Spencer could hear the smile in Morgan's voice. He'd done the right thing, then. He didn't want to have Morgan unhappy. Not just because he was afraid of upsetting him, either. A part of him simply wanted Morgan to be happy.

"So, pretty boy, what do you feel like doing today?"

What did he feel like doing? Did that mean…._he_ got to decide what to do with the day? "I…what?" he asked. He couldn't believe Morgan was asking him what he wanted to do. Maybe he'd misunderstood him. Maybe Morgan wasn't really asking him what he wanted to do; maybe he was just trying to determine Spencer's physical injuries so he could plan the day right. Master had done that. He would have Spencer assess his own injuries so that Master knew if he had to be careful. Master enjoyed hurting him, but he didn't want him to die.

Morgan didn't comment on the tension that had Spencer's body tight. He just continued to talk as if it wasn't even there. "I asked what you feel like doing. Do you want to lie around in bed? Go outside? Watch movies? Whatever you want, kid. Today is all for you."

All for him? The possibilities swarmed Spencer's mind, suddenly seeming endless. He had no idea what to do with an entire day! Taking a risk, knowing this might not be what Morgan wanted to hear, he forced himself to be honest and whisper "I don't know. I…I can't plan that far ahead. I can only focus on, on making it the next minute. I can't think that far into the future." It sounded pitiful when it was said out loud like that.

Morgan ruffled his hair in a gentle sort of way. "Then I think that today should be spent reminding you how to relax. I propose we shut out the world today, kid. We won't talk about anything that happened to you or anything outside this apartment. We'll just laze around the house, veg out on takeout, watch movies and just be two friends having a relaxing day. On top of that, it'll give your body some time to heal a little more. How does that sound?"

It sounded heavenly. In his mind, Spencer did exactly as Morgan had suggested. He took as much of the negativity as possible and pushed it back. A corner of Spencer's mouth quirked and he let his eyes close again. "Can we sleep a little more first?" He asked. Already he could feel himself drifting back off.

"Hell yeah. Today, kid, we're lazy."

That was the last thing Spencer heard before he fell back asleep.

As Morgan had suggested, the two wasted away the entire day together. They slept a little while long in the bed before moving out to the couch in the living room. There, Morgan put on a happy movie, something that would make them laugh. At one point in time Spencer would have picked the movie apart, not understanding why certain things were so funny. This time he just watched it, not quite smiling. His eyes sparkled slightly, though, each time that Morgan laughed.

They didn't talk about anything that even remotely touched on Spencer's kidnapping or his recent rescue. The only time anything came close was when Morgan asked him how his pain was and Spencer answered that he was fine. Otherwise, they discussed the past if they even talked at all. A great deal of the day was spent with neither man speaking.

Nobody stopped by or called. Occasionally Morgan received a text message. He never said what they were about. Spencer knew, though. He knew his friends were checking up on him. He didn't mind that. Not really. It kind of made him feel good to know that they cared that much about him.

After a dinner of Chinese takeout, which Spencer ate only a tiny bit of, the two men watched one last movie. Halfway through, Spencer's eyes started to fall a little. Sleep was trying to take him back under again. Morgan turned the movie off and suggested they turn in. Half asleep, Spencer reminded him that he hadn't got Clooney back yet.

While Spencer was using the bathroom, a knock same on the door. In the act of washing his hands, the younger man froze. Who was there? Morgan had told him that none of the others were going to stop by today; he'd told them to stay away. So who was knocking? Did that mean something had happened? Panic roared to life inside of him. Without realizing it, his hands gripped the sink while his eyes locked on the door.

What if someone was coming to tell them that Master was free? What if it was Master at the door? Oh, no. No, no. _It can't be him. Morgan said I was safe here. Nothing is going to happen to me with him around._ He tried to tell himself. Yet there was that other voice, always doubtful, slipping insidiously into his thoughts. _They can't always protect you. You belong to Master. You are his body. You think he'll just leave you here? He'll find you and he'll punish you for how bad you've been._

_No, no, I'm not bad!_ He argued with himself.

The other voice was relentless. _You are. Look at you; look at what you've done. Look at what you've let yourself become. You're standing here in _clothes_, in another man's _house_, sleeping in his _bed_. Master said not to talk to anyone. You've disobeyed his orders. What next? Will you let Morgan Have you. That's all any man wants with you_.

A sob trapped itself in Spencer's throat. No, no, it wasn't true. Morgan didn't want that from him!

_Yessss_ the voice hissed in his mind. _Why do you think he sleeps in the same bed with you? He's waiting until your guard is down and then he's going to Have you. That's what men do. You deserve it. It's your punishment for being so bad. You were already in trouble, remember? You told the police about that lady. Remember what Master told you when he found out? "You know what to do, boy. I can't right now." But have you? You've disobeyed him even more_.

The tears were falling now, burning down his cheeks. The voice was right. Master had told him that; had told him to punish himself because Master couldn't. He was being such a bad boy! Would Morgan really punish him? No, no! He refused to believe that part. He absolutely refused to believe that Morgan would take him, hurt him, any of that. Morgan would never do that.

But Spencer turned his head to look in the mirror and he knew the second half of his thoughts were true. He _was_ bad for not listening to Master. He was bad for telling about the pretty ladies. He was bad for being at Morgan's house. For thinking bad thoughts about Master. For eating and wearing clothes and sleeping in a bed. For all that and so much more.

There had been plenty of times that Master had made his boy punish himself. He seemed to enjoy it. The boy knew what he had to do now.

Yet he didn't move. He couldn't make himself move. The urge to follow Master's orders was taking over him, demanding to be heard. There was another voice, though. Buried deep underneath everything but still there. This voice told him that he didn't have to do this. He was safe here with Morgan. He didn't have to hurt anymore. He didn't have to live this way. _I'm not 'boy'. I'm Spencer! Spencer Reid!_

Backing away from the sink, Spencer moved until his back was against the wall. The coldness of the wall was like a shock against the pain that was non-stop in his back. Gasping, he sunk to the floor. Pain filled his chest. His breathing was becoming labored, more difficult to pull in and out. Specks seemed to dance in front of his eyes.

He didn't hear Morgan outside the door, calling for him. He didn't hear Clooney's barking. Then the bathroom door opened and Spencer found himself with his arms full of dog. Morgan was cursing lightly in the background, calling to his dog even as he moved forward to pull Clooney back. The dog just tugged away from Morgan and put himself right into Spencer's lap, licking at his face. The younger man was so startled by this that his eyes went wide. He didn't even realize that his breathing had evened out or that his vision had cleared. All he could do was stare at the dog in front of him.

Clooney licked his face again, right across his cheek. Then he looked at Spencer, his head tipped just a little to the side. Maybe it was silly, but Spencer felt like the dog was trying to make sure he was ok. His hand shook slightly as he raised it, lightly scratching behind Clooney's ears. "Good boy, Clooney." He whispered. The dog happily licked his arm, wringing a smile from Spencer.

Amusement laced the voice that spoke above the two. "Now that you two have made friends, why don't we move this off the bathroom floor and to the bedroom?" Morgan teased him.

With his tiny smile still in place, Spencer levered himself up off the ground, the dog sticking close to his side. He shut off the water to the sink and followed Morgan down the hall and to the bedroom. Clooney seemed almost glued to the side of his leg, sticking to him as he walked into the bedroom and as he moved toward the bed.

Morgan looked at the two and shook his head. He was smiling, though, so Spencer knew he wasn't in trouble. "Well come on, the both of you." Morgan said as he climbed into bed. He was already in sweats and a shirt so he didn't have to change before getting in. He pulled the blankets back, patting the bed. Clooney didn't hop up, though, until Spencer climbed in and Morgan and tossed the blankets over the younger man. Then the dog hopped up, lying right against Spencer's back. The warmth of the dog's body chased away more of the shadows that had been in Spencer's mind.

He and Morgan were lying face to face. It allowed Spencer to see the concern on Morgan's face. "You ok, man?" he asked gently. "You looked…you looked like you were having a panic attack."

"I was." The admission was soft. Embarrassed by it, Spencer dropped his eyes to look at the blankets.

"You want to talk about it?"

"I was just, I was thinking." Spencer said. He bit his lip, unsure how Morgan was going to react to all of his. "About, about being bad and such. Part of me knows I'm safe here, with you. But part of me is still 'boy'. I can't just shut it off. I look at, at everything I'm doing and…I can't help but be afraid. I've disobeyed him so many ways, Morgan." He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the wave of fear and shame that came with that comment. "I've done almost everything Master told me not to."

"You know you don't have to follow his rules anymore, pretty boy. No one here expects you to."

"But I can't seem to stop myself." And oh, how that hurt to admit. He hated that he couldn't just go back to being who he once was. That was hard part of remembering who he was; who everyone was. He felt he should be able to go back to being him. But he was too damaged inside to be Spencer Reid anymore. Not far beneath the surface was still the boy who had followed every single order his Master had given him. "I can't keep regular clothes on. I start to feel panicky and uncomfortable. I can't stop myself from obeying everything I'm told without even thinking about it. Even suggestions register as orders to me. Despite knowing that they aren't and that I don't have to do them, my body does it anyways before my brain can even argue."

For a moment the bedroom was quiet. Morgan shifted a little before he said "You don't have to answer this, Spencer, but I was curious about something. I've noticed that you don't argue anything. That you follow orders, like you just said. But yesterday, well, I saw you arguing with Emily about the blankets. Well, not really arguing. You were more debating how they should be set up."

That was a simple question for Spencer. One he didn't have to even think about. "She's a woman. Women, they don't, they never had power over me. They could…they could hurt me. Master let others hurt me sometimes. Some men, some women. But…with the pretty ladies, I, I always was the one in charge of them when he wasn't around. I told them what to do. So…debating with them, with Emily, it doesn't scare me. Does that make sense?"

"It does."

"I hate this, Morgan." Tension was trying to seep in again. His hands gripped the fitted sheet underneath the blankets. "I don't understand anything. I don't mind being close to you like this. I don't mind sharing the bed with you, or having you touch me to help me. You don't scare me. But I can't stop myself from automatically obeying or being afraid that I'll do something wrong and finally piss you off, even though my brain logically knows that it won't happen. I know you won't hurt me. But I've lived for almost two years trying to make sure I do everything to please Master so he doesn't hurt me. I can't handle others trying to touch me, but I can handle your touch. I'm like two different people inside, warring to try and keep control."

Words almost poured from him. How did he keep finding himself here with Morgan, saying things he hadn't known he would end up saying? Something about Morgan was so easy to talk to. Spencer knew that the person he had once been would never have talked so openly about any of this. About anything personal, really. But being with Master had ripped down his private walls. When someone takes away your pride and sense of self, you find it hard to even think about personal boundaries. They've been stripped away.

"At the station, he told me to punish myself since he can't right now. All because I told you guys about the pretty ladies. I disobeyed him. I know that I don't have to, but my brain still tells me that I _need_ to. It's not the first time he's made me punish myself when he couldn't or when he simply wanted to watch me obey. How insane does that make me that I'd hurt myself? That, even outside his control, I have to fight with everything I have to not punish myself?"

A hand touched his arm, snapping his eyes open and making him stare at Morgan's face. His friend's eyes were so sorrowful and serious. "Listen to me, Spencer Reid." Morgan said in a voice gone low with emotion. "You are not crazy. You've lived through hell. It's not just going to change overnight, sugar. You're doing amazingly well for only being apart from him for days. Don't be so hard on yourself for not being perfectly better yet. It'll take time." Neither of them commented on Morgan calling him 'sugar'.

He knew the words were true, but it was hard for him to accept it. "But I'm safe with you!" Spencer insisted brokenly. "Why can't my body understand that? Why can't I just be normal again?"

"You may be safe, but who you are isn't just going to change when you snap your fingers. It'll take time and effort. Not just yours, but those around you as well. We'll be there every step of the way to help you. But you have to give yourself a little leeway. What you lived through…well, it's amazing you're as sane as you are. Give yourself time."

Those damned tears came back again, burning his eyes. He was so tired of crying all the time. "It's so hard. I just want to be normal. I want to be me. He's taken so much from me, Morgan. Not just time in my life, but the memories I could have had. He's taken who I am and ruined it. He took away years I could have had with all of you. With my Godson. He took away the security in my own home. I couldn't even look at my bed without a panic attack!"

As soon as the words were out, Spencer knew what Morgan would ask. He knew what was coming. To be honest, he'd wondered how long it would take before Morgan asked him.

"Spencer…I um, well…"

It was obvious that his friend couldn't bring himself to ask. Spencer took a deep breath and kept his eyes on Morgan's face. "You're curious why I can't handle my own bed but I can lie perfectly ok in yours." He stated gently. Morgan nodded at him.

Though it was hard to let himself think on it, Spencer knew he had to tell Morgan, at least. "When…when he took me, I was, I was sleeping. I woke up to a hand on my mouth, keeping me silent, and a body was suddenly over me. He pinned me down and cuffed me with my own cuffs. Then…then he stuffed something in my mouth and tied on a…a gag. I struggled, but he hit me in the head and dazed me."

The memories came back, as clear as if they had just happened. He felt his breath hitch again. The hand on his arm moved down, finding his fingers under the blanket and lacing them together. Spencer appreciated it. He squeezed Morgan's hand, trying to draw strength from the other man.

"He raped me there, multiple times." The words were blunt, but they held a wealth of pain. "Then he beat me. I couldn't call out through the gag. Just…just before morning he unhooked the cuffs from the bed but not from my hands. He dressed me and tried to carry me out. I guess he thought I was too dazed to fight. But I fought him, hard. I broke free for a minute and made myself run, but he tackled me. Took me down to the ground and started to beat me. I, I passed out. When I, when I woke up, I was at his house. I don't know how I got there." Spencer squeezed Morgan's hand even together. "Each time I looked at my bed, all I could see was myself lying there, trying to fight and failing. It was the first time I'd ever felt that weak. That helpless."

"Ah, pretty boy." They were the only words Morgan could seem to get out. To Spencer, they were enough. The words didn't matter. The emotion in them was what counted. Love and sorrow; pain that he'd gone through something like that. Support for him having told this story. All of that was conveyed in those three words.

Shuddering, Spencer leaned in toward Morgan, resting their foreheads together. No more words were needed between them after that. There was nothing that could be said to follow that moment. So they lay there, staring at one another until sleep pulled their eyes closed. In the big bed, the two men fell asleep, hands still clasped between them, foreheads pressed gently together, a dog standing guard beside them. That night, Spencer slept without nightmares.

**Ok, so the next chapter we'll get Spencer out of the house. I have a few ideas of what I want to do to start to bring a little more into the story. This story is getting long, isn't it? Wouldn't surprise me to end up with quite a few chapters. But as long as people keep reading, I'll keep writing! I hope this chapter answered a few questions you guys had an I hope you enjoyed it. I enjoyed writing it. Well, R&R and I'll see you next chapter when we take our little Reid outside of the house and into the world. Wonder how well he'll take that? :P**


	21. The Oracle of All Knowing

Standing beside Morgan's car, Spencer stared up at a building he had never thought he would see again, let alone go inside of. His hands trembled as he wrapped them around his waist. When Morgan had said that morning that he needed to stop by the office and fill out some quick paperwork, Spencer had been unsure about going out with him. Not because he didn't want to see anyone—he really didn't mind the idea of seeing his friends—but because it would put him out in public. Around _people_. Too many people making too much noise.

That seemed to be the worst part. Everything was so _noisy_. His ears couldn't process all of it at once and were having a hard time filtering out what was important and what wasn't. Already he could feel a headache brewing behind his eyes. But Morgan said he needed to do some paperwork, so Spencer was here with him. They both knew that leaving Spencer alone right now was not an option for a multitude of reasons. One of the biggest being Spencer's fear of letting Morgan out of his sight for very long.

But could he walk in here? Could he walk into FBI headquarters, up the elevator to the familiar doors that would lead him to what had once been his life? _You can do it_ he told himself. _How hard can it be? Just walk in there_.

That thought wasn't as reassuring as he'd wanted it to be. His body trembled only slightly as yet another person passed him by. There were so many people here! So much noise.

_Just stick close to Morgan. He'll keep you safe from them. He won't let anyone hurt you. All you have to do is stick close to him and avoid as many people as possible._ That was a plan he could stick to.

The other part of his brain, though, continued with its treacherous taunting. _He can't protect you from everyone in there. All those people and each one of them carry a gun. How can he stop a group of people with guns from taking you away? He can't. They'll come and they'll take you and they'll Have you! You know it. People look at you and they see what you are. They know what you let be done to you. You're no FBI agent. A true agent would have escaped, or died before giving in the way you did. You gave up. You let him have you. You're _weak_. They'll see that. Everyone who looks at you knows it._

He didn't hear Morgan walk up beside him—all this damn _noise!_—but he felt the solid presence of him at his side suddenly. He sucked in a deep breath before looking at his friend. Morgan didn't offer words of encouragement; he just held out a hand, offering his support that way. It was exactly what Spencer needed. He let one of his trembling hands come out and thread together with Morgan's. Just that contact made him feel a little bit safer.

Together the two made their way to the entrance. When it came time to come through security, Spencer's stomach jumped a little at having a guard so close to him. Once they'd determined they were secure to come in, the two moved further into the building. It was blissfully quieter in here. Though there was still noise, it wasn't as all-consuming as it had been outside. Spencer let out a little sigh of relief.

That relief disappeared when they approached the elevator, moving to stand inside. There were two other people already in there. Two men. Spencer felt his breath catch in the back of his throat and his hand clamped down on Morgan's in a vise like grip.

The older man squeezed back, conveying a silent reassurance. When they were inside the elevator, Spencer stood by the wall, keeping Morgan between him and the other two men. His heart rate picked up a little when the doors closed. He was trapped in here. Trapped with three other men, only one of which he held any trust for.

"Hey, Morgan. How's it going?" One of the guys said in a friendly sort of way. Something about his voice was slightly familiar to Spencer. Did he know him? Had he known him at one point in time? _Why can't I remember if I know him or not? I hate this jumbled up memory! I hate not knowing things I feel I should know._ The snide little comment in his mind startled him. He pushed those thoughts away. The emotions that came with it were too foreign to him. He'd almost felt…not angry, but annoyed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that way. That he'd felt any way but sad, or hurt, or scared.

Morgan shifted a little, keeping himself between Spencer and the others, but his voice was friendly when he replied. "Things are going pretty good." He squeezed Spencer's hand as he said that part. "How about you, Kyle? How've you been? I haven't seen you in a while."

"Oh, you know how it goes. Work, work, work."

"Isn't that the truth?" Morgan chuckled.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened, the quiet passenger getting off. But two other men and a woman got on, taking up even more space. When the doors closed, Spencer felt his breath hitch even more. There was even less space in here now. Oh, God. Oh, God. He needed to get out of here. He couldn't breathe in here. Not with this many people. No, no, no. Trembles ran down his lanky frame, making him shake like a leaf in the wind.

Morgan turned toward him, concern tightening his face, drawing his eyebrows down. "Hey now, pretty boy. Come on. Breathe for me." He murmured. His free hand came up, stroking down Spencer's cheek briefly. The small contact made the younger man flinch. Why, he didn't know. All he knew was that he couldn't breathe in here. There were too many people in the elevator with him. He had to get out, now. Now!

"Spencer, sugar, look at me. Look at me, now. Come on. We're almost there, ok? Just breathe and concentrate on me. We'll be there shortly, I promise."

He forced his wide eyes to lock on to Morgan's face. Please, God, let the doors open soon. Let him out of here before this degraded into a full blown panic attack. He needed to get out of here! "Please." The whimper slipped out before he realized it. The one word was all he could manage.

As if something above had heard his plea, the elevator doors suddenly opened. Morgan was pulling him out; Spencer didn't even look to see if this was their floor. All he could focus on was getting out of that small space. If it hadn't been for Morgan's hand in his, he would have hit the floor by tripping over his own feet in his effort to rush out of there.

Lost in trying to control the panic, Spencer didn't even notice anyone else was in front of him until he collided with another body. Instantly he whimpered, drawing backwards, letting go of Morgan's hand so that he could bring his hands up like he was going to shield his head. Instinct told him to protect himself.

But two voices brought him back to the present moment. First one, exclaiming "Spencer! Hey, hey, it's ok, sugar. We're out of there. It's ok." That was definitely Morgan. Then another, "Derek Morgan, what on earth were you thinking, taking him in there? Why are you even out of the house?" Oh, Garcia. He'd run into Garcia.

Her perfume surrounded him at the same time that he was wrapped in her arms. "Oh, sweetie, it's ok. You're safe here, honey. I've got you." She whispered to him. Spencer huddled into her, burying his face against her shoulder, his body shaking with the sobs he was trying to repress. "Come on, I'm taking you to my office. You'll sit with me while Morgan does what he needs to do, ok?"

With her usual bustling manner, Garcia took complete control of the situation. Before Spencer could even think to protest, or get enough air back to voice anything, he was being pulled down the hallway by Garcia's arms, led directly to her office. The first thought he had when she brought him inside and shut his doors was that it was so wonderfully quiet in there. The only sound he heard was the light hum of the computer equipment. Just like he had in the basement. When Master had left to sleep or to go somewhere, Spencer had spent many hours lying on the ground or standing where he'd been commanded to be, listening to the silence of the house around him and the subtle buzz of the electrical equipment that Master had set up to keep an eye on him. Those had been his favorite times in that house. Being here, hearing it now, was soothing. Being around Garcia was soothing.

It comforted him enough that he allowed her to lead him to a chair and sit him down. But then he felt some of his fear kick back in. Garcia was wonderful to be around—so bright an loving and full of everything he had missed in life—but he had to admit that if a threat came, she wasn't exactly terrifying. No one would be scared off by her. And they were back here, alone. Anyone could come back to them and no one would know. What if someone came and overpowered her and took him? What if someone hurt her or him? There was no one here to protect them. Spencer swore that if someone came in, he would fight to protect Garcia. He would go with them if he had to just to keep Garcia safe.

"Sweetie?"

Her gentle voice broke into his thoughts, making him realize that he'd been sitting there staring off into space. Swallowing, he looked over to where she was sitting in her office chair. For just a second memory swarmed his mind. How many times had he sat here with her like this? Tons of flashes, so many he couldn't keep track, of her sitting in that chair, surrounded by the computers. This was her space. Her lair, as she'd always called it. _"The Oracle of all knowing."_ She'd once called herself.

Garcia smiled at him as he drew his attention back to the present. "You ok, Reid? You went a little spacey on me there. You know you're safe here, right? Nothing is going to happen to you at the FBI headquarters. No one would be dumb enough to hurt you here."

Another memory flashed into Spencer's mind and he spoke without thinking. "People did before." He said that with amazement. Not at the information, but at the easy access of the memory. Some of his earlier memories at the BAU were still a little foggy sometimes. There were periods in his life where he didn't have a straight memory of them. They were fragmented and jagged, like puzzle pieces all out of place.

"What? What do you mean?" Garcia asked. She rolled her chair over to the table he was seated at, her eyebrows drawn down in a look Spencer recognized. She was being protective at the moment.

He chewed on his lip for a second, debating whether or not to answer her. But what would it hurt to tell her? "I was just…you said that and I remembered a few things. My memories, um, the early ones can get foggy. They're not all in the right place right now. I uh, I remember some people picking on me. Words, or tripping me, or shoving me when I was alone."

Another memory came in, making Spencer marvel at the clarity of it. It was as if it clicked into place in his mind, no longer floating around. "Once Johnson came in when I was making coffee and he was mad. He didn't like me because I was here and I was so young and he'd worked for years before they'd even considered him for the BAU. He said something about his case and I had read the files, so I gave him my opinion. Next thing I knew I was against the fridge, coffee spilled down my shirt and he was telling me that he was better at his job than I was and he didn't need the advice of a kid."

"That bastard! How dare he lay his hands on my baby?" Garcia seethed. The snap to her voice had Spencer jumping a little, pulling back out of his head to stare at her with wide eyes. Instantly she reached over and patted his arm, her expression softening. "Sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to startle you. But no one lays a hand on my babies. Especially not my hunky doctor. I should give his computer a virus he won't ever be able to get rid of."

Realizing that the anger wasn't directed at him, Spencer breathed a little easier. His response came without thought. "Garcia, that was four years, two months and seventeen days ago. There's absolutely no point in doing anything about it now."

"Doesn't make it ok. But, I won't argue it." She looked him over from head to toe with a critical eye. "You look just a little better. Been sleeping ok?"

"Yes." No need to tell her that he slept in Morgan's arms, or about the nightmares he had. She had asked if he was sleeping ok and he really was. Not perfect, but ok. Because it was Garcia, he let himself look her over. "You look better too. I'm glad you got went home and got some sleep. You needed it."

"I did, but I didn't want to leave you. It's hard for us to be apart from you, honey. We've all missed you for so long." She said. When he ducked his head down, she chuckled. Spencer looked around the room, feeling his heart still thudding slightly in his chest. He picked awkwardly at his clothes, not liking the feel of them on his skin. But he'd made the agreement with Morgan that he'd dress completely when he came out in public. That meant that he was in shoes, socks, pants, and a shirt. He had refused the jacket, no matter how cold he might get. That was just…too much.

Garcia must have noticed him pulling slightly at his pant legs. "Your clothes bothering you?"

He looked up at her and nodded. "A little. I don't like wearing them. I…I'm not comfortable in them."

His easy answer seemed to stun her. A corner of her mouth quirked with good humor. "You never answered questions so easy before. It's going to take some getting used to now. You were always the perfect example of an I'm-fine guy."

Spencer shrugged and looked at his lap again. "What's the point of hiding something? There's always someone stronger than you to take it from you or pull it out of you whether you like it or not. At least this way, it's on my terms." He told her. When he lifted his eyes, it surprised him to see the tears that swam in hers. "Garcia?"

"It breaks my heart to hear you talk like that, Spencer Reid. I hate it even more knowing that it's how you really feel." She said softly. He tried to say something, but she shook her head. "No, no, I understand. Just let me be a little weepy for a second. I promise, it'll be done with soon. Distract me. Tell me what else has you looking so nervous in my lair."

So she'd noticed that, had she? He flushed just a little. He didn't want her thinking that he didn't trust her or feel safe with her. He did! But, in the world where he'd lived, women didn't hold any more power than he had. If anything, they'd been worse off than him. They'd had nothing. None of them had ever been able to stand up to Master. None of them had been able to take what he gave them. Except for the last girl. She had survived.

Realizing she was still waiting for an answer, Spencer picked at his pant legs again and looked back up at her. Hopefully she wouldn't get offended. Hopefully he could say this right. "It's not you, Garcia. I…I trust you. Being with you is easy. I, I'm not afraid when I'm with you. But…I just, if someone came…"

"…I'm not exactly the type to be able to fight them off. I don't even carry a gun." She finished for him. A smile was lighting her face, letting him know that he hadn't upset her. "I get it, sweetheart. I do. You're not quite ready to feel unprotected yet. Is that why you were clinging so close to Morgan?"

Spencer nodded. "He makes me feel…safe. I know no one is going to get past him. When, when I can't see him, I, I panic a little. It's stupid, I know. And there are studies that state that it's common for a person who has been captive for extended periods of time to transfer the dependence on their captor to the person that recuses them. I know that is something I need to watch out for. But…but I can't help it. I breathe easier when I can see him."

He'd rambled a little in the middle there, just barely managing to cut himself off. Once he'd cut into his rant, his nerves had come back.

Garcia pushed away from the table abruptly, rolling to her computers. Her fingers flew over the keys for a moment. Watching, Spencer wondered what on earth she was doing. It wasn't like her to just cut off a conversation like that, even when she was working. She was very capable of multitasking. He didn't have long to wonder, though. She reached out, turning one of the monitors towards the side of the room. He couldn't see what was there.

Garcia stood, reaching out her hand to him. Confused, he took it, allowing her to help him up and lead him toward the couch. When she had him settled there, she pointed back to the monitor she'd moved. From where he sat he now had a perfect view. On the screen was a live feed from one of the cameras in the bullpen. There, in center screen, sat Morgan. He was working at a desk, occasionally turning to talk to Emily, who sat near him at her desk.

The tension inside of Spencer eased just a little. Seeing Morgan made it a little easier for him to breathe. Grateful, he gave Garcia one of his small, rare, hesitant attempts at a smile. She bent down, patting a hand on his cheek. "I don't think there's anything wrong in relying on him, or looking to him for safety." She said gently. "You know all the facts about this transference thing, Reid. You'll stop yourself if it gets too far, or you'll ask one of us for help before then. Right now, it's perfectly ok to lean on other people. If he's what makes you feel safe, then just enjoy that sensation. No one is going to judge you for it."

With one last smile, she moved over to her desk and sat down again. "Now, you just sit there, relax a little, maybe catch a nap or something. Our chocolate God is going to be working for a bit so you've got plenty of time to do whatever you want."

"Can I, can I just lay here?"

"Sure thing, honey. So long as you don't mind the sound of my keys as I work."

Spencer shook his head. Gently he lowered himself down on the couch, making sure the screen stayed in his line of sight as he did. He didn't want to sleep, but lying down sounded so nice. "I don't mind the keys." He whispered, watching as Morgan smiled and threw something at Emily, who immediately threw something back. "Your office is nice and quiet. It…reminds me of home." Images of the quiet basement came to mind. Garcia had no idea that he meant there when he said home.

Neither one spoke as they stayed in the quiet office. Spencer just lay on the couch, enjoying the silence and the presence of someone he loved and who loved him in return.

**Rest of their outing will be in the next chap! The day isn't done for them, don't worry :D**


	22. Please Take Me Home

**Sorry it took me a little longer than normal to update! I've had a few stressful things in RL and it has been affecting my writing. Boo. Well, I hope this chapter makes up for it and I hope you guys enjoy it. I know that, right now, things are real exciting. But there's a little bit of drama at the end that hopefully satisfies those of you looking for it. :D So yeah, read, enjoy, and don't forget to review! I love reviews :D You all make me so happy!**

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><p>Sighing, Morgan put the last folder down in his outbox. He leaned back, letting his head tip backwards and his eyes close. There really wasn't anything he hated more than he hated paperwork. But it was one of those necessary evils; especially today. That morning while Spencer had been sleeping, Aaron had called to tell Morgan that he'd gotten the approval for Morgan to have time off—for the moment there was no specified time. The director had agreed that two months were satisfactory for the moment but there was the understanding that it could be shortened or extended as the need arose. This was good, because Morgan had no plans on leaving Spencer any time soon. Not until he knew that he would be safe being by himself.<p>

The only condition had been that he finish off the paperwork on his desk, which really hadn't been that much. It was just…he hated doing paperwork, so it was always procrastinated until the very end.

Now that it was done, he was free to go find his pretty boy again and get him out of here. After the morning's events at the elevator, he wasn't sure how well Spencer was doing, being stuck here. The poor kid had panicked so hard at being stuck around a large group of people like that. Morgan still couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it before he'd put them in there.

Spencer was so hesitant to being touched by other people. If it was someone he didn't know, he didn't even like them being near him. Add on that they'd been trapped inside of a small room with no immediate way out and it was no wonder the kid had started to freak out. What was surprising was that he had even let Morgan lead him in there to begin with.

_No, not surprising_ he told himself. _Spencer goes anywhere you tell him to the minute that you say it, even if you're just suggesting it. He wouldn't think to question you. _And oh, that was hard to handle sometimes.

It was a good thing that Garcia had taken Spencer with her to her office. The whole way to the office, Morgan had wondered what he would do with Spencer while he was working. All the people in the bullpen would have terrified him and there was always the chance that someone would try talking to him. They all knew him; more people that Morgan had ever realized until Spencer was missing and he'd seen the amount of people affected by it.

Their shy, awkward little genius had been friendly with almost everyone in the BAU. Maybe not friends, but at least friendly. Especially to the few people that no one ever really saw. The mail girl who came through and dropped mail off on their desks; the technicians that came in to fix the equipment. People down in archives had been teary eyed and silent for quite a while after "that sweet Reid" had vanished. Even though he hadn't spoken much to everyone, he'd made an impact on their lives. For some, it was simply that he had taken the time to notice them and appreciate what they did where others didn't.

Undoubtedly someone would have wanted to come over and welcome Spencer back home. If they had tried to touch him, well, Morgan had no idea how the kid would react. So it really was for the best that Spencer was back with Garcia. On the flip side of that, Morgan had noticed that Spencer tended to panic when Morgan was out of his sight. That made him sad and happy at the same time. Sad that Spencer was so scared and so unsure that he couldn't handle being left alone. Happy that it was Morgan he chose to trust this much.

He wondered how Spencer was doing. Maybe since he was with Garcia, he wouldn't panic too much. She was the first person he'd remembered; the one he'd clung to before anyone else. Apparently there hadn't been any problems, because Morgan knew Garcia would have called him if there was.

"This is the quietest I think I've ever heard you." Emily's teasing voice cut into his thoughts.

Not bothering to open his eyes, Morgan smiled. "Woolgathering, I guess."

"Long night?"

Rolling his neck, Morgan sat up straight again. He stretched his muscles out before rising to his feet. "No, actually, it was all right. We didn't sleep for a long period of time, but there were no nightmares. Actually, I think I owe that to Clooney."

He saw the humor light Emily's eyes and couldn't help but smile back at her. All of them had smiled more in the past few days than they had the entire time Spencer had been gone. "Clooney? As in, your dog? You're telling me _he_ helped Reid?" she said jokingly. Everyone knew that animals and Spencer did not get along very well.

"I know, right?" Morgan stepped up to her desk, resting his hip on the edge of it. "Spencer told me to bring him home instead of having the neighbors watch him. So I brought him home and the first thing he does is rush to the bathroom door where Spencer is. When we opened it, the kid was having a little panic attack and Clooney just barged right into his lap."

A laugh behind them alerted the two to Aaron and Dave's presence. The two older profilers were leaning on the railing in front of Aaron's office, smiling at them. "I bet Reid loved that." Dave chortled.

Morgan flashed them a grin. "Actually, he did. Clooney licked him right in his face and it was like a switch flipped. Spencer calmed his breathing down and was staring at him. I stepped back to see what would happen. Clooney licked him again and Spencer just kind of cocked his head, you know? Then he scratched him behind his ears and told him he was a good boy. Clooney didn't leave his side for the rest of the night."

"Wow." Emily remarked. "Who would've thought?"

"They do say dogs can sense when something's wrong with a person." Dave added in. "Maybe your dog just senses that Reid needs the protection and care right now."

Morgan shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever it is, it seemed to help Spence, so I'm all for it. Clooney can sleep with us forever if it gives the kid nightmare free nights."

Silence surrounded them. At first, Morgan didn't realize why his friends had gone quiet or why they were all looking at him with shock. Not until Aaron managed to ask "You two sleep in the same bed?" He said with shock. "And he lets you?"

Oh. Morgan gave them a half a grin. He'd forgotten that they had no idea about that part of things. "Uh, yeah. He asked me to stay with him. He doesn't really like being alone, or that far from me, really. And it seemed more practical to stay and keep him safe. Then I'm right there when a nightmare hits."

Emily had sat back in her chair to stare at him. Surprise still lit her eyes. "I can't believe he lets you that close. I mean, I was a little surprised to see how comfortable he is with you during the day. But to trust you enough to let you be there at night when he's his most vulnerable…wow."

"I was going to put him in the guestroom, but I knew he was scared." Morgan said, feeling the inexplicable need to explain his actions. "So I offered him my bad and said I'd kip it on the floor. He told me not to and asked me to just stay with him. I couldn't really say no."

Reaching out, Emily put her hand on his arm in a reassuring way. "Of course you couldn't, Morgan. We're not judging you. We're just surprised he allows it. Victims usually don't have this level of comfort around someone else so soon after being rescued. He's become pretty attached to you in a short time."

"We were pretty close before. Maybe that has something to do with it." That was the only thing he was able to think of to explain it to himself. "The kid knows he can trust me. And, I think my size actually helps instead of deters him. He knows that physically, I'm well equipped to keep him safe. Actually, I'm kind of surprised he's still down with Garcia. Lately he doesn't really like me to be out of his line of sight. He rarely even closes the bathroom door when he goes in except for last night, and I think that was just to hide out while I was getting Clooney. He felt safer in the enclosed space."

A knowing look passed between Aaron and Dave that had Morgan's attention shifting fully to them. "What?" He asked cautiously.

The team leader looked at Morgan with just a hint of a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. There was something in his eyes, so quick Morgan couldn't read what it was. Then they were back to their usual stern expression. "I went down to talk to Garcia a bit ago. She has Reid stretched out on her couch, relaxing." The smile showed just a little bit more. "Apparently he wasn't happy about not being near you. Something about Garcia not exactly being the type to defend them both. So she accessed the cameras in the bullpen and put it up on a monitor that she turned so he can see it while he lays there. He's been watching the whole time he's been down there. She said it relaxed him almost completely."

Surprised, Morgan lifted his head to look at the camera. He couldn't help but grin and wave at it. Then he shook his head, looking back to his friends. Dave was chuckling again, Aaron looked like he was fighting a smile, and Emily was full on grinning at him. "Like I said, attached to you." She teased him.

He gave in and let out a small laugh. Then he rose from the edge of her desk. "Well, I'm going to go gather him up, I think. I'm done with my work, Hotch. I think I'll go ahead and take him home. He's probably ready to go somewhere quiet and get out of all those clothes." Looking around him, Morgan found himself thinking about something he'd noticed when they came in. "He seems really sensitive to noise. It's like it overwhelms him or something."

Aaron straightened up from the railing. He nodded like what Morgan had said made perfect sense. A second later, it made sense to the rest of them, after their unit chief gave them his explanation. "It would make sense. From our understanding, he didn't often leave that basement. The only sounds he would have heard would've been from him, Vincent, and any of the women that were there. Otherwise he would have been in total silence when he was alone. Living like that for a while, the sounds of the world must be almost overpowering to him."

That really did make sense. Morgan hadn't stopped to think of that. The poor kid. He'd always been a little more sensitive than the rest of them; gunshots had usually hurt his ears a little. Which was ironic in their line of work but they'd just considered it another of Spencer's quirks.

"You go ahead and take him home, Morgan. Coming out today was a big thing for him. He might need a little recovery time, so I'll call to check in tonight but no one will stop by until tomorrow unless he wants us there. We want to give him the space to heal." Aaron said.

After saying his goodbyes, Morgan set off towards Garcia's office. He didn't knock—he never knocked on her door—but he was surprised by how silent it was when he walked in. Garcia was working at her computers, tying away at what, he didn't know. But she didn't spin and start talking to him like she usually did. Morgan's eyes drifted toward Spencer right away, needing to see for himself that the man was ok.

Spencer was still lying on the couch, his half open eyes fixed on Morgan. There was no smile on his face, but in his eyes Morgan could see the emotion that told him Spencer was happy to see him. He'd noticed that Spencer smiled rarely; if he did, he usually ended up wiping it away quickly like it was something bad. But his eyes carried enough emotion to convey what he felt. It made Morgan happy to see that that part of Spencer hadn't changed. He'd always had such expressive eyes.

"Hey, pretty boy." He said softly. Something about the silence of the room seemed comfortable; something that he didn't want to break. He felt like he should be whispering in here. After shutting the door he walked past Garcia, only letting his hand brush her arm in greeting and feeling her hand touch his in return. But his eyes were still on Spencer. Stepping up beside the couch, he lowered himself into a crouch, putting their faces level with one another. "Did you enjoy your visit with Garcia?"

"Yes." Spencer answered immediately in a voice just as soft as Morgan's. "It was pleasant in here. Quiet."

"Yeah. I'm sorry I didn't think about the noise bothering you. I probably should have asked Garcia to come sit at the house with you while I did my work." Neither commented on the fact that Spencer shouldn't be left alone. They both knew it and accepted it.

He was surprised to see Spencer shake his head, though. "I'd rather be with you." The young man whispered. His body didn't physically flinch, but the sensation was visible in those eyes, as if he was afraid of being in trouble for saying something against what Morgan said. God, he hated seeing Spencer look at him like that. Like he was mentally preparing for a lecture or a blow that he'd been trained to expect.

Morgan sought to reassure him, wanting him to feel comfortable expressing himself. "Then I'll stick to you like glue, kid. Don't be afraid to tell me what you want. I'd rather do something that makes you happy and comfortable than make you miserable."

This time those eyes lit with surprise. Oh, it made his heart ache. Absolutely ache. No one should have to feel that way. To be shocked by a simple human kindness. No one should ever have to live afraid that anything they said or did would get them hurt. Animals were treated better than that.

Unable to resist, Morgan reached out and tucked a strand of Spencer's hair behind his ear. He thought to himself that they should get Spencer's hair cut, but the longer hair did look good on him. Maybe just a small trim.

He gave himself a mental shake and drew out of his thoughts. "You ready to go, pretty boy? I'm all set here at the office, so we can head back home if you want to."

"If…if I want?"

The question surprised Morgan. He nodded. "Yeah. Is there something else you want to do, Spencer?"

For a moment there was silence. Then Spencer spoke, oh so softly, his words barely able to be heard. "I, well, can we go, uh, go see the pretty lady?" he asked hesitantly. This time his flinch actually showed in his body a little.

The pretty lady? "Do you mean Emily?" Morgan asked.

Spencer trembled a little when he shook his head. "No. The, the one that got free."

Realization dawned on Morgan. Oh, _that_ pretty lady. He felt his lips curve with a genuine smile. It did him good to hear Spencer actually voicing something that he wanted. Plus, it might do him good, going to see the woman whose life he had helped saved. It wouldn't take away the pain that Spencer held about the other 'pretty ladies' that he still was convinced he killed, but maybe it would give him a little light in his world. "Of course we can, Spencer. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to see you."

The joy that lit Spencer's eyes before he smothered it made the whole trip worth it. Morgan held out his hand, waiting until Spencer took it before he rose to his feet, drawing the younger man with him. Spencer moved toward Garcia, leaning down to hug her lightly. "Thank you for letting me stay in here, Garcia." He whispered to her.

Her smile was wide and bright. "Any time, my lovely. You're always welcome in my fortress of solitude. Now, go have fun with Morgan and I'll give you guys a call tonight, ok? Maybe I'll bring by some dinner."

"Sounds good. We'll talk to you once we're home, baby girl." Morgan brushed a kiss over the top of her head on his way out the door.

This time Morgan was more prepared as he went to the elevator. He waited, making sure no one was inside of it before he took them in and pressed the button for the ground floor. Spencer's hand stayed in his, trembling slightly, but they made it to the bottom without anyone else needing to get on. As they stepped out, Morgan looked over at him and smiled. "You want to stop and get something to eat before we go to see her?" he asked.

As always, he could see the surprise Spencer showed at being asked a simple question. It made it painstakingly clear that no one had asked him what he wanted for far too long. Or at least, if they had, they'd never given him what he'd asked for.

"I, I could eat. Maybe, you know, just a little."

The stammering sentence was sweet enough to have Morgan squeezing the thin hand in his. "Food it is, then. You can even pick the restaurant if you want, pretty boy."

A sudden voice cut into their conversation. "Holy shit. Morgan? Dr. Reid?"

Instantly Morgan tensed, pulling Spencer just a little closer to him. The younger man didn't hesitate to press up against his side and his eyes had gone wide. With a quick scan, Morgan found the source of the voice. Ah, crap. Agent Niall was rushing toward them, his eyes wide and his face surprised. Niall worked in Counterterrorism. They'd worked with him on a case twice before Spencer had gone missing and he'd taken a liking to the younger man, much to Spencer's displeasure. He'd confessed to Morgan once that Niall made him a little uncomfortable. He hadn't been shy about trying to hit on Spencer any time he saw him at work.

Morgan subtly shifted his stance so that he was blocking direct contact between Spencer and Niall. There would be no outrunning him, he knew. Better to face him head on and try to extract them as quickly as possible. If they'd kept walking, Niall simply would have followed them and pinned them down outside. "Hey, Niall. You caught us on our way out, man."

That didn't faze Niall at all. "It's true!" He exclaimed when he reached them. "Dr. Reid, you're back home! I'd heard the rumors but I couldn't believe it. It's really you!"

A quiver ran down Spencer's thin frame and he pressed himself even closer to Morgan. When Niall tried to step toward him, a small whimper escaped Spencer's lips, tearing at Morgan's heart. He shifted them again, placing Spencer almost behind him instead of beside him. The younger man didn't protest.

"Ah, yeah, Niall. He's back with us. If you're looking for details, I'm sure Hotch could give you some if you stop by. He's upstairs working right now. But, like I said, Reid and I were just on our way out the door to grab some lunch. We're both pretty hungry. So, if you'll excuse us…"

"That's perfect!" Niall exclaimed loudly, making Spencer flinch again. "I was just on my way to lunch too. I'll walk out with you two."

Seriously? A ripple of irritation ran through Morgan. Couldn't the man get the hint that he wasn't wanted? Couldn't he see that he was terrifying Spencer right at the moment? At the mention of joining them, Spencer's body gave an almost convulsive tremble. His whimper was just a little louder this time.

Niall stepped forward again, trying to peek around Morgan. "I'm so glad to hear that you're home and doing well!" He reached a hand out like he was going to clap it on Spencer's shoulder. That was when all hell broke loose.

Mentally cursing, Morgan reached out and grabbed Niall's wrist, not bothering to be subtle about this anymore. There was no way he was going to let someone touch Spencer without permission; especially when it was obvious they were already upsetting his friend. It was too late, though. All Spencer had seen was the hand rising up toward his head and he panicked.

A choking gasp that sounded almost like a sob came out and then Spencer dropped down to his knees, his hands coming up over his head and his body hunching over.

In a flash Morgan had let go of Niall and was dropping down to the ground beside Spencer. "Oh, it's ok, Spencer. Sugar, it's ok. No one is going to touch you, I promise. I won't let anyone touch you. You know that." He whispered soothingly to him. He wasn't sure if he should reach out yet. Unable to see Spencer's face there was no way to tell if he was all the way there or if he was in a panic attack. If he was in a panic attack then any touch might make him worse.

"What the hell?" Niall exclaimed loudly.

Morgan had eyes only on his pretty boy. "Spencer, sugar, I need you to listen to my voice. I need you to know that you're safe, ok? No one is going to hurt you here. This is Niall and he just wanted to touch your shoulder, but I wasn't going to let him. I hope I didn't startle you by moving so fast, but I was trying to stop him."

"Please." Spencer croaked out. "Don't let them touch me. I'm sorry. I'll be good."

"Oh, pretty boy. You didn't do anything wrong. But I promise, I'll keep them back. No one is going to touch you."

Niall's voice interrupted them once again. "Now, see here. What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, taking a step toward them. The sound of his footstep had Spencer flinching and whimpering once again, his grip around himself tightening.

Furious, Morgan looked up at the Agent and glared. "Back off, Niall! Dammit, can't you see you're scaring him? Just back off!"

"I wasn't doing anything! What's the matter with him?"

"Just _back off_!" Morgan snarled. "Before I make you back off."

The threat only had Niall's chest puffing out. He'd always disliked Morgan just a little because of how close of friends Morgan and Spencer had been. "Listen here, Agent Morgan. You aren't my superior; you have no rights to order me anywhere. If I want to check on Dr. Reid, then there isn't anything I really see that you're going to do to stop me."

Anger brought Morgan to his feet and had him in a protective stance between Niall and Spencer. "I will tell you one last time, Niall. You've terrified the hell out of him, now back off so I can get him calm and get him home. You have no idea what's going on and it's none of your damn business. Now, if you don't move, I'll _make _you move. Can't you see that you arguing and coming closer is only making it worse?"

When Niall glared and made to move around him, Morgan simply had enough. His hand was bunched to throw a punch when he felt long fingers close over it. Surprise had him looking down to see Spencer had uncurled just enough to reach up and take his hand. "Please." The young man whispered. "Don't. Please."

The sound of Spencer's achingly terrified voice seemed to have frozen Niall better than Morgan's threats had.

The two weren't even paying attention to Agent Niall anymore. Morgan was looking down at Spencer, their eyes locking. "Please." Spencer whispered again. "Take me home. I need to go home."

That was all Morgan needed to hear. He felt his anger drain out of him like a plug had been pulled. He turned his back on Niall and squatted down beside Spencer again. "Think you're steady enough to get up and walk, pretty boy?" he asked him. Embarrassment was written on Spencer's face as he shook his head no. "I, my ankle, I think I, I hurt it." The young man said. "I twisted a little when I dropped."

For Spencer to say it hurt a little meant that it most likely hurt quite a bit. Morgan nodded at him. When they got home, he would take a look at it and see what damage had been done. Now his only concern was getting Spencer out of the bureau. "Well, grab on to me, kid. I'll get you out of here. Don't you even worry about it, ok? Just put your arms around my neck and hold on. This may sting your back a little."

There was a tremble to Spencer's arms when he lifted them, but he placed them around Morgan's neck without hesitation. With gentle hands, Morgan picked up his friend marriage style and pushed up to his feet. He didn't even look at Niall before heading over to walk past security. They waved him through, giving him sympathetic looks as he passed.

By the time Morgan got Spencer in the car, he'd stopped trembling, but his eyes were drifting closed. Morgan buckled him in and shut the door. Then he went around to the driver's seat, climbing in and buckling himself. He saw Spencer was practically already asleep. With one hand he gently rubbed his friend's forearm. It surprised him when Spencer turned his hand, letting their hands touch. Then those longer fingers were lacing with his and their hands were linked.

With a smile, Morgan used his other hand to turn the car on and put it in gear. It was a little tricky, but he wasn't going to let go of Spencer's hand unless absolutely necessary. In the back of his mind, he thought to himself how nice the sensation was. How right it seemed to hold Spencer's hand as they drove home.


	23. I Failed Him

**Sorry it took me so long to update! I can't believe it :P I'm ashamed of myself. Sorry, sorry! I promise, the next update will come much faster than this one. The next chapter should be longer, too. I'm thinking of doing the dinner with Garcia that night and then the visit the next day with Hotch and Cindy all in one chapter. What do you think? Should I do it as one or two chapters?**

**Again, sorry for taking a while to update. I don't really have an excuse. I uh, I have like five other CM fics on my comp that I'm writing and I just got caught up in writing on one of them. But that's no excuse for letting this one go, lol. Thankfully, the muse for this story came back, tapping me on the shoulder (more like slapping me in the face) and this chapter was born! Anyways, I'll let you read now. Thanks again for the wonderful reviews! I can't believe I'm over 200! Wow!**

**So, yeah, here's the story, lol. R&R! They make me so happy ;)**

**Oh, and, again, none of the characters are mine. don't own them :P**

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><p>Getting Spencer home and into bed had been easy. The younger man had been mostly asleep by the time they arrived so it had only been a matter of getting him into the house and to the bed. Morgan made it simple by carrying him once again. When he came in the door, Clooney instantly was at his feet, nosing at Spencer's feet and whining. Morgan shushed him while shutting the door. The dog followed them down to the bedroom and, once Morgan had set Spencer on the bed, Clooney had hopped up with him and curled against his stomach. To make his friend more comfortable, Morgan moved the two on the bed long enough to get Spencer out of his shirt and his slacks, leaving him in only his boxers. It was worth it when he saw more of Spencer's tension drain away.<p>

It made Morgan smile when Spencer brought his arm out, wrapping it around the dog before he buried his face in the back of Clooney's neck. He couldn't resist pulling out his cell phone and snapping a quick picture of the two. He sent it off to each member of the team with a message that said 'We're home now and he's resting. Told u Clooney liked him!'

He leaned over the bed, smoothing some hair back from Spencer's face. "Spencer, sugar, I'm going to head out to the living room and make a few calls, ok? I'll leave the bedroom door open so you just give a shout if you need me."

"Is Clooney staying?" Spencer mumbled. He sounded like he was barely even awake anymore.

This time Morgan's smile was wider. Something unfurled in his chest, something he didn't have a name for. "Yeah, kid. He can stay." He said gently.

"Thanks."

Before Morgan was out the door, Spencer was asleep again. By the time Morgan reached his kitchen, his phone was making noises to alert him to the incoming messages. The first one, of course, was from Garcia. _'Aww, look at that sweetness! He looks so cute!'_

The next was JJ. '_How adorable! Thanks, Morgan!'_

Emily. _'He looks peaceful. Guess the Reid effect doesn't work with your dog, eh? He's as abnormal as his owner!'_

Dave. _'Thanks, kiddo. Good to know he's relaxing.'_

Finally, Aaron. _'Call me when you get a chance.'_

Huh. That sounded great, didn't it? While Morgan set about making a pot of coffee, he dialed Aaron's number, cradling the phone to his ear while he poured water into the machine. After a few rings, Aaron was on the phone. "That was fast, Morgan."

"Yeah, well, he's knocked out now. What's up, Hotch? Something happen?"

"I heard there was some kind of incident downstairs when you guys left and I wanted to know what happened. I haven't been able to get an accurate report."

Thankfully he'd finished prepping the coffee pot when Aaron asked that or he might have been tempted to slam the pot down. He felt the same anger that had been there before, demanding he deck the stupid idiot Niall. "Ugh. We ran into that idiot, Niall, from counterterrorism. The one who always hit on Reid, you know."

"What did he do?" A hard tone had entered Aaron's voice.

In short sentences, Morgan summed up what had happened. He stared out the window as he spoke, trying to keep his temper under control. When he was done reporting, his temper kicked in a little more. "Hotch, I swear, that bastard better not come near me after this. He had to see that he was freaking Spencer out but he just didn't seem to give a damn. Even when the kid was on the floor, he still didn't give a damn! And not a single person down there came over to try and help get him away!"

"Let me handle it."

If anything, Aaron's voice was even harder than before. For a split second, Morgan almost felt sorry for Niall. Almost. Not only did the idiot mess with someone on Aaron's team, but he messed with the baby of the team. Worse than that, he messed with a hurt an scared Spencer that they'd just brought back home. All of them were already overprotective of the kid to begin with; it was ten times worse now. "He's all yours, boss." He said with a low chuckle. Whatever Aaron did, the guy deserved it.

"How's he doing now? Sleeping, obviously. That was a nice picture by the way."

Morgan moved to pour himself a cup of the finished coffee. "Couldn't resist snapping it. You should have seen Clooney when we came in. Man, when I took Spencer out of his day clothes, I thought Clooney was going to start growling at me if I didn't set him back down soon. My own dog, protective of Spencer even against me!"

"I think it's safe to say the Reid-effect isn't as strong anymore." Aaron joked. It was wonderful to hear that joking tone in his boss's voice; that had been absent for far too long. Spencer brought the best out in people, it seemed.

"Funny, that's about what Prentiss said."

"So are you two just going to stick around the house today? I thought maybe tomorrow morning I'd stop by if it was ok. It's Saturday, so I won't be doing anything. I can stay as long as he's up for visiting."

A thought struck Morgan. He sipped off his coffee, rolling it over in his mind. "He gets a little scared around you guys." He started out slowly, trying to form his thoughts into words. "But at the same time, he seems to want you guys here. Like he can't quite make up his mind. I think he's trying to force himself to start to relax. It would probably do him good to see you. Maybe on your own, though. I think if we keep the visits one on one for the most part, he'll start to adjust a little more."

"Seems like a sound plan to me. I know the girls are having a hard time staying away, but they're trying to respect his privacy. All of us just need to learn that he's home and he's not going to disappear on us again. It'll take time."

"You aren't the only ones. I'm with him all day and I still feel like, if I turn my back for a minute he's going to vanish on me. I don't think I could handle that again, Hotch." This was the closest Morgan had ever come to admitting to anyone how strongly he felt about all this. But it seemed right at the moment. Standing in his kitchen, leaning against the counter with his cup of coffee while Spencer slept safely guarded by the dog, his boss and friend on the phone, it just seemed relaxed enough for him to let down his walls. "I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to him now that we've got him home."

"It hit you hardest out of all of us, Morgan. He's always meant a lot to you. Right now, he's not the only one that's clinging. You are too. That's ok, though. Right now it's what the two of you need; to cling to one another and reassure each other that you're there."

"He's just…he's been through so much, Hotch. I look at him and I see all the marks. Not just the new ones, but the old ones too. The scars. On his hip he's got this scar that looks like a burn, almost the size of my palm. Then all these long ones that look like they came from a knife." A ragged breath tore out of Morgan, full of emotion. "I hate seeing how badly he was hurt. I hate seeing that and feeling all over again like I failed him."

There it was, the poisonous little thought that he hadn't been allowing himself to think on. He had failed his best friend. Someone he had come to realize meant more to him than anyone else in his life. When Spencer had needed him the most, he hadn't been there for him.

"I, I don't know why he trusts me. How can he look at me and not hate me for not being there when he needed me? Almost two years that bastard had him! I look at how broken he is, inside and out, and I just, the guilt eats at me, man. It rips me apart. I should have been there for him! I should have done something!"

For a long moment Aaron was quiet, letting Morgan rant, letting him get it out of his system. When Morgan was finally done, Aaron let the silence stretch on a moment longer. Then he finally spoke.

"Do you blame the rest of us for this too, Morgan?" he asked.

Surprise had Morgan setting his cup down before he dropped it. "No!"

"We should have been there, too. We should have known he was gone before we did. We should have found him sooner. Then, in the end, we weren't even the ones to find him. He was found by luck. As team leader, I should have found my missing agent a long time ago. Do you blame me for not finding him?"

"No!"

"Then how can you blame yourself? We did everything we could. None of us stopped looking for him. I know for a fact you and Garcia worked on it off the clock. You did everything in your power to help him."

Sighing, Morgan closed his eyes and took a ragged breath. "But it wasn't enough."

"I'll tell you something Gideon told me once, Morgan. You can sit and second guess yourself. You can look at everything you did and see all the ways you could have done something different to make the outcome better. You can beat yourself up until the guilt eats you alive. But does it change anything? No. Does it make the results any different? No. All it does is deprive you of the current moment."

That sounded just like Gideon. "How can I stop from feeling that way, though?"

"You focus on the now. Reid's home now. He's right there in your house, in your bed, healing. You can sit around and focus on what you should have done and all that you lost, or you can embrace what you have now and focus on what you can do. All that guilt won't help Reid heal now. Instead of thinking about what you should have done, focus on what you're going to do. Focus on the now. He needs you like he's never needed anyone. Are you going to wallow or are you going to step up and help him put the pieces back together?"

The words struck a place inside of Morgan. There was truth to them that he'd already known, but seemed more powerful coming from a friend. "Thanks, Hotch." He said, smiling just a little. There was no one who could put things into perspective quite like Aaron could. He wasn't just their leader; he was like the father of the group. He was always there to listen and to help, no matter what was going on. And his advice had never failed. "I already knew that, but I think I just needed to hear it from someone else."

"Anytime, Morgan." Aaron's smile was evident in his voice. "That's what family does, you know."

"Aint that the truth." Feeling immensely better, Morgan shifted the topic while he picked his cup back up. "Hey, Spencer wanted to go see Cindy today, but I think I'm going to hold that off until tomorrow. He needs to relax today after what happened. Do you think you'd mind coming with us? Just in case being out in public like that gets to him too much?"

"Of course. What time do you want to head out?"

"Oh, around ten I think. Afterward I thought we could hit somewhere to eat. We were going to today, but, well, you know how that went down. I was going to let him pick where to go and he got real excited about it, so I want to do that tomorrow. He isn't accustomed to making his own choices anymore and I'm trying to help him gain that back a little. Seeing her is the first thing he's really asked me for."

"It's a good plan, Morgan. I'll show up about a quarter to ten. Like I said, my days free, so it doesn't matter what we do."

"Thanks, Hotch." He said once again. The two wrapped up their conversation and Morgan pocketed his cell phone once again. Talking with Aaron had helped quite a bit. He wasn't feeling perfect now, but he was feeling quite a bit better._ Hotch was right. The past isn't the important part. What's important is helping Spencer heal. I'm going to do everything I can to help him._ He thought to himself.

As he took another drink of his coffee, a low sound from the bedroom caught his attention. He didn't hesitate to set his cup down and hurry down the hallway. The closer he got, the louder the sounds were. Immediately he knew what it was. Spencer was having a nightmare.

When he hit the bedroom, Clooney was standing on the bed, nudging a thrashing Spencer with his nose and whining. Morgan hurried forward and sat down on Spencer's other side, reaching out to the young man. "Spencer. Spencer!" he called out. "It's just a dream, sugar. Come on, wake up. It's just a dream."

The instant his hands touched Spencer's shoulders, his eyes shot open wide, looking wildly around the room. When they landed on Morgan, he let out a sound halfway between a moan and a sob and practically dove into Morgan's embrace. Morgan held him tight, stroking his hair and whispering soothingly to him while the broken man sobbed. Yes, Aaron was right. They couldn't change what had happened before, but he sure as hell could be here now. And he was going to be, no matter what.

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><p><strong>So, what'd you think? I know that Reid wasn't a big appearance in this chap but I felt that I've been neglecting Morgan's feelings in this story so far. He needed that little Hotch moment right there, I think. If it seems OOC for Hotch, well, that's just how I see him, so, sorry. :D So, love it? Hate it? don't care? anything you want to see in this story? Let me know!<strong>


	24. I know I'm crazy, Clooney

**Ok, I split it into two chapters. I know, sorry for those who wanted a really long one. look at it this way: tomorrow you'll get another update lol :) It feels good to update again quickly! I hope you like this, as well as the humor at the end. Please, R&R!**

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><p>The scent of food was what woke Spencer from his nap. He lay in the center of Morgan's bed, wrapped almost entirely around a <em>dog<em>, with the smell of something delicious drifting around the room. He lay there with his eyes closed, almost afraid to open them. Afraid that if he did, all of this would vanish. It would disappear into nothing and he would find himself back in that basement once again.

_Your mind could have finally snapped. This could all be one giant hallucination. You have a predisposition toward mental illness, so the chances of your mind suffering a break are actually very likely._

Sometimes facts and logic _sucked_.

A snuffling sound near his head drew his mind from his annoying thoughts and into the present moment. Then a cold nose pressed against his cheek only seconds before swiping over his face. Spencer finally dared to open his eyes and found that he was face to face with Clooney. If he didn't know better, he would swear the dog was smiling at him. But dogs didn't smile.

He couldn't help but feel amazed that Clooney was there at all. _Maybe this means it really is a hallucination. Dogs do not like me. They definitely wouldn't lay in a bed with me and keep me company while I sleep._ But how could he deny what was right in front of his face? Briefly, he chuckled at himself. This wasn't a hallucination. He knew that. He wasn't suffering any other symptoms of a schizophrenic break. Though, could a person accurately diagnose themselves with a mental disorder? Wasn't that, in and of itself, impossible, as the symptoms would cloud thinking?

Another lick to the face drew him out of his thoughts. "Ok, Clooney, ok." Spencer muttered to the dog. "I'll stop thinking like that. But I can't help it, you know." Slowly he sat up and stretched his body out just a little. The familiar aches and pains were there; nothing that he wasn't use to.

His simple movement seemed to make Clooney happy. The dog stood up on the bed and wagged his tail. Then he moved, angling his body at Spencer's side and shoving his head under his arm so that Spencer was left sitting there, his arm dangling over Clooney's shoulders while the dog sat there, tail still happily wagging.

The urge to smile overwhelmed Spencer. Since there was no one there to see it, he let it curve his lips. The sensation felt so strange; at the same time, it felt good. He turned his head, burying it in the scruff of Clooney's neck. "You know," He whispered "There are studies to indicate that a dog actually helps in the healing process of PTSD." Closing his eyes, he sighed. "I know I'm suffering from that. I'm intelligent enough to recognize the symptoms. Just like I'm intelligent enough to know that it's not exactly healthy to be carrying on a conversation with a canine. It's not like you can actually respond to me. Then again, maybe that's the appeal."

Spencer brought his other hand up to scratch at Clooney's ears, still keeping his face buried against the warm fur. He felt safe here. Relaxed. Almost like when he was with Morgan, but just a little bit…more. He kept whispering to him, suddenly needing to say all this. To speak things out loud that he'd been keeping to himself. To actually analyze his thoughts out loud.

"Maybe I'm talking to you because I know there's nothing you can say back. With the others, I worry about what I say or what I do. I'm always worried that I'm going to mess something up. Even with Morgan. Though, not as bad with him as with the others. Morgan shows me that he cares and that I'm safe. He makes me feel safe. Feel…human. I just worry that, if he knew what was going on in my mind, he might decide to not be the one to deal with me anymore. Not because he doesn't want to." Frustrated, Spencer sighed. "I'm afraid he'll think that I need professional help. I know he'd only do that if he really thought I needed it, but I don't need to be committed. I don't want to end up like my mom."

That was the crux of it. He didn't want to be locked away somewhere, visited only when people had the time, left to spend the rest of his life in some institution.

"I know I'm crazy, Clooney. I can't handle having men touch me. Loud noises scare me and they hurt my ears. I don't eat much. I have nightmares and flashbacks. I'm suffering all the symptoms of PTSD. But I don't think going anywhere else would help. What could they do for me that Morgan doesn't already do? And now you."

Impulsively, Spencer hugged the dog's neck. "You're such a good boy, Clooney." He whispered. "You're the only dog that's ever liked me. How pathetic does that make me, leaning on a canine for support?"

"I don't think it makes you pathetic at all."

Morgan's warm voice had Spencer almost jumping out of his skin. He hadn't known anyone was there! Ashamed, he lifted his eyes to where Morgan stood, leaning against the doorway. God. How much had Morgan heard? How long had he been standing there? Panic floated inside of Spencer. Was…was he going to be in trouble for saying all of that to Clooney? Had Morgan heard him and decided he was crazy? _Please, please, don't lock me up. Please!_

Casually the older man pushed away from the wall and strolled over to the bed. He sat down gently and brought one of his hands up to scratch under Clooney's chin. "You know, sometimes when a case is really hard, when it just gets to be a little too much, there's nothing I want more than to come home to Clooney." Morgan said casually. He looked at the dog, not at Spencer. "No matter what happens, I know he's here. I know he loves me, even though I have to leave all the time. I know that, while I sleep, he'll have my back and keep me safe. He's also the best listener and the best cuddler."

Smiling, Morgan turned to look at Spencer. There was no judgment on his face, no ridicule. Just, understanding and compassion. Spencer felt himself start to relax under that gaze. "Come on, pretty boy. Garcia's here and she's got dinner ready for us. I was coming to wake you up."

Dinner sounded like a good idea. The idea of eating so much, so regularly, still amazed Spencer. He couldn't seem to convince himself that it wasn't going to go away. That it wasn't going to just stop. His body told him to eat but his mind told him to hold back; if he got use to eating regularly, it would only make it harder when it was taken away again.

Silently he moved from the bed, coming out to stand beside Morgan. He looked down at himself and remembered that Morgan had stripped him down to his boxers. Instead of terror spiking at the idea of a man stripping him, he felt grateful that his friend had done that for him. Morgan was the type of guy to do something like that. To do it knowing that it would make Spencer more comfortable.

The three companions, dog included, made their way toward the dining room. Dinner was already served on the table, their plates ready and waiting for them. Spaghetti, with garlic bread on the side. It smelled divine. When Morgan pulled out a chair for him, Spencer had to fight from throwing himself down and simply diving in. He carefully sat down, looking around over his shoulders to make sure no one was going to come in and take it from him.

Just as Morgan took his seat at the head of the table, off to Spencer's left, Garcia came in with glasses in her hands. "Hey, sleepy head!" She exclaimed. "You look like you slept well." She passed out the glasses while she spoke. Spencer twitched when she set his down by his plate, fighting the urge to bring his arms up and wrap them around the plate protectively.

Just as she took her seat across from him, Garcia seemed to notice Clooney for the first time. The dog was sitting at Spencer's right, leaning against his leg with his head resting over his knee. Her eyes traveled down to him and a scolding look came over her face. "Clooney! You know better. Out, out! No dogs at the table."

Spencer felt his eyes widen. He looked at Garcia with panic and then slid his gaze over to Morgan. Words trembled on his lips but he couldn't make them come out.

"Garcia, he's fine." Morgan said calmly. He gave Spencer a look that was full of reassurance.

That had Spencer relaxing. Morgan would make this ok. This was his house; he wouldn't let Garcia order him about. Sure, Spencer remembered them playing around at work; those memories were clearer now. But this was Morgan's house and he was the man here. The boss. Garcia wouldn't dare to argue with him. Convinced of that, Spencer patted Clooney's head, earning him a look of adoration from the dog's big eyes.

So convinced was he of how things worked, it completely threw him when he heard Garcia say "Morgan, he can't stay in here while we eat. He'll get dog hair all over everything! You never let him in your dining room for just that reason. You've _always_ been that way." She spoke as if she were pointing out the obvious.

Shock widened Spencer's eyes. She was _arguing_ with Morgan? Oh, he knew Morgan wouldn't hurt her. That wasn't the type of guy he was. He wouldn't hurt her like Master would have. But he could make her leave. He could never let her come back. Spencer didn't want that. He swallowed the lump in his throat and forced himself to try and diffuse the situation. "Garcia." He whispered to her. "Please, be quiet." Then, while she was staring at him in surprise, he turned to look at Morgan. "She didn't mean to argue with you, really she didn't."

Morgan looked at him kindly. "She did, pretty boy, but it's ok. Don't worry; it's ok if she argues with me. Part of what I love about her so much. She won't get in trouble for it, I promise." When Spencer relaxed, apparently visibly because Morgan gave him a soft nod, the older man turned to look at Garcia. "As for you, Clooney is welcome wherever he wants. Plus, I doubt you'd get him to let go of Spencer right now anyways. He's been glued to him ever since he came home. Now, why don't we all eat this delicious food you brought for us, mama?"

Now that he had permission, Spencer awkwardly picked up his fork and tried to eat the food on his plate. He was grateful that whoever had served him had only put a little bit on his plate. As it was, he was worried about being able to eat it all. No matter how hungry he was, he couldn't handle too much food, neither physically or mentally. But he silently dug into the food, telling himself that it was necessary. At the same time, in the back of his mind, a little voice told him to eat before he upset the head of household. He didn't notice when his other arm came up, curling protectively around his plate, creating a little shield around his food.

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><p>Morgan couldn't help but watch Spencer as the younger man ate. It was both a wonderful experience—the kid was actually putting food into his system!—and a horrifying experience—Spencer barely managed to use his fork to gather his food and he constantly watched as if he was waiting for the moment it would all be taken away. It was the same way each time he ate. Which, in the past few days, hadn't been often. Or at least, not as often as Morgan would have liked. But he understood they had to take it slow. Spencer's body just wasn't ready to take in a lot of food.<p>

He and Garcia spoke while they ate, chatting about people at the office. They had an unspoken understanding not to ruin mealtime with things that could be upsetting. So they tried to pick subjects that were safe. Garcia talked about Kevin and the date he wanted to take her on soon. Morgan discussed his family, talking about calling them soon and seeing how they were doing.

When they were done eating, Spencer stopped as well, his hands folding into his lap. Morgan tried to hold in the sigh that wanted to rise up. "Pretty boy, if you're still hungry, go ahead and eat." He told him gently. "Just cause we're done doesn't mean you have to be."

"I'm full, thank you."

The only way he could see to get Spencer to eat more would be to tell him to and let him take it as an order and that was something that Morgan refused to do. So he silently helped Garcia clear the rest of the table. Once the dishes were put into the sink, Morgan noticed that Spencer seemed to be drooping in his seat a little. His head had bowed down some and it didn't look like it was from shyness or fear. He looked tuckered out.

"Wow, someone looks tired again." Garcia whispered to him. They watched from the kitchen as Spencer fought to lift his head back up.

This time Morgan did sigh. "He sleeps, but it's not deeply. Since I brought Clooney home, it's been nightmare free, but it wasn't before. His body and mind have been through a lot. Plus, after today, he's probably more mentally drained than anything else."

"Well why don't you go take him to bed? I'll wash the dishes and then put a movie on, if you don't mind my sleeping over."

He turned to kiss her cheek. "Not at all, baby girl. You know that. You're always welcome here." With a smile, he moved over to squat beside Spencer. "Hey, sugar. You want to help me take Clooney out? Then I thought we could go lay down in the bedroom for a while. Maybe watch a movie or read until we fall asleep."

The look Spencer gave him, a hint of happiness and something else that Morgan couldn't—wouldn't—read.

Rising to his feet, Morgan held a hand out to Spencer. Neither said anything at the younger man took it and rose to his feet. Together, they took Clooney to the backyard.

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><p>The two men got through the night, though Spencer woke three different times from nightmares. Each time Morgan and Clooney both were there, cuddling up on either side of him to help soothe him back down. The younger man cried each time; his eyes squeezed shut, his face buried against Morgan's chest. It was heartbreaking for Morgan to watch. To see the trembles that ran down the thin body. To watch as Spencer looked so terrified in that instant that he woke up.<p>

But they made it through the night and rose together in the morning to the smell of Garcia making pancakes. All it took Morgan was one look at Spencer's face to see that this meal was just too much for the kid. "Hey, why don't you get a bath while I join Garcia for breakfast?" Morgan suggested as they stood in the bedroom.

He saw the small panic that leapt into Spencer's eyes and tried to resist rushing over and wrapping him up tight. When he hadn't been able to sleep, Morgan had sat in the bed, cradling Spencer in his arms. He'd thought about ways he could help Spencer regain some of his independence. It was going to be a slow going process and it was going to have to start out little, but it was necessary.

"You can keep the bathroom door open, sugar." Morgan tried to keep his voice supportive and caring. He wanted Spencer to know that he thought he was strong enough to do this. "I can prep the water for you, if you want. And Clooney can stay if he wants. I just thought you might be tired of having to be helped."

The idea looked to surprise Spencer and then to please him. "Thank you." He muttered. "I…I'd like that."

God it was good to hear the kid voice his feelings on something, even if it was in a shy and hesitant way. Morgan smiled widely. "Ok, come on then, kid."

They headed into the bathroom, where Morgan prepared the bathwater for his friend. He knew that Spencer could do it on his own, but a part of Morgan worried that the kid would get it too hot or too cold. Not because he wasn't intelligent enough to handle bathwater. No, because he was afraid that this might have been something else Vincent had trained him in. So Morgan solved that problem before it got the chance to be a problem.

While the tub filled up, Morgan showed Spencer the new items on the counter that Garcia had brought over. "This blue brush here, Garcia brought for you so you can brush your teeth. You know where the toothpaste and such is. Just help yourself to my shampoos and such, pretty boy. I don't mind share. If you need any help, call me, ok? I'll just be in the dining room."

"Ok, Morgan."

"All right then." How sad was it that the kid looked so excited at the prospect of a bath? Or a toothbrush? Reaching over, Morgan shut the water off. "There you go. Go ahead and hop in." He scooted around Spencer, moving toward the door. Spencer was already shucking his boxers off and climbing into the tub.

That had been the biggest surprise of all for Morgan; seeing Spencer's complete and utter disregard for his state of undress. He didn't really care who saw him naked. He didn't care who saw him in boxers. At one point in time, Spencer would have blushed straight down to his roots if he'd even had to take his shirt off around anyone. Now, that embarrassment was just another thing to add to the list of what Vincent had stolen from him.

When Morgan left the bathroom he deliberately left the door open wide, just as he'd promised. Then he headed down the hall to the dining room where Garcia was just setting pancakes on the table. "Morning, hot stuff." She said with a wink, plucking out her headphones with one hand. Apparently she'd been listening to her iPod while cooking. "Where's the wee wonder?"

"He's taking a bath right now." He gave an appreciative sniff to the air before he took his seat. "You make great food, mama, but I don't think he's up for three squares a day yet. It's gotta be gradual."

"Well, more for us then."

"Amen to that."

The two sat down, digging in to their late breakfast. A glance at the clock showed Morgan that it was already nine thirty. Well, shit. Aaron was going to arrive any time now. Knowing him, he'd end up being early. He always was. He must have made some sound because Garcia suddenly asked him "What is it, Morgan?"

"Oh, I just realized we got a late start. Hotch is supposed to get here in fifteen minutes so we can get ready to go see Cindy."

"Hotch is going with you?"

Grinning, Morgan took his last bite. "Yeah. We're gonna hang out with Hotch today. I forgot I told you we were going but not that he was coming too. You still sure you'll be ok here by yourself today?" As he spoke he rose, taking his plate to the sink. When the two had been up before Spencer had woke they'd talked about the days plans and Morgan had told her about going to the hospital to see Cindy.

Garcia had surprised him when she said she'd stay at the house with Clooney. She smiled at him now, bringing her own plate over to the sink. "Of course. I'll throw some laundry in, pick things up a little. Help out."

"You don't need to clean my house, baby girl."

"I know." She bumped their shoulders together. "But I want to help. All of us do. If this is how I can help, well, it's the least I can do."

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Morgan jogged over, drying his hands off on a kitchen towel as he did .When he opened the door he found his boss standing on the other side, a corner of his mouth quirked. "Dishes?" The older man asked.

Looking at the towel in his hands, then back up at his friend, Morgan gave up and just grinned. "Just my breakfast plate." He stepped back, holding the door open wide. "Come on in, Hotch. Kid's just finishing up taking a bath so we should be ready to go shortly."

"Not a problem. I'm in no rush today."

After closing the door, Morgan led Aaron into the kitchen where Garcia was setting three mugs down on the counter. "Coffee, anyone?" she offered. Both men accepted.

They had just leaned against the counter to start talking when the sound of nails clacking on the floor had Morgan looking up, expecting to see his dog. He saw Clooney all right. Then he saw Spencer. The younger man was shuffling in a way that suggested his sore body was bothering him, a bath towel in his hand, and absolutely nothing else on.

Garcia gave a small squeak of surprise before turning her back on them, facing the sink. Aaron's eyebrows shot up and Morgan thought that his mouth might have dropped open behind the cup as well. It was the most shocked he'd ever seen the Unit chief.

"Hello, Hotch." Spencer said cautiously. It was the same nervous voice he used on anyone that wasn't Morgan.

"Um, hello, Reid." Aaron stammered out.

Humor replaced shock, tickling the back of Morgan's throat. He tried to restrain it as he walked toward his friend. "What's up, pretty boy?" he said with amusement.

Spencer gave him a curious look before softly replying "I can't get my arms to move right to dry my hair. You…you said you'd help if, if I needed it. Right?"

"That's right. Come on, let's get you back to the bedroom." Turning, Morgan grinned widely at Aaron and Garcia. "We'll be back out in a few minutes, guys." Then he led Spencer, with Clooney following of course, down the hall to the bedroom. Once the door was shut, Morgan couldn't hold it in anymore. He braced himself on the door and laughed. His humor echoed around the room, bringing a the smile to Spencer's eyes.

"Oh, man." It took a moment but Morgan was finally able to stand up. He wiped away the tears of mirth and turned his grin to Spencer. "I swear, kid. Hotch's face when you came out naked, that was priceless! I've never seen the man flustered!"

It almost looked like Spencer wanted to smile. Really, actually smile. "I didn't think about it. I don't really, anymore."

"I know, kid. But, man, that couldn't have been any better if you'd planned it. That was the last thing he expected."

Wither another chuckle, Morgan wiped away the last of the moisture from his eyes before taking the towel from Spencer's hands. "Come on, pretty boy. Let's get you dried off and dressed. We've got plans today."

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><p><strong>Duh duh duh daaaahhhh - Next chapter, I bring in the old friend. :) But I can't just make it be 'hi friend' and leave it at that. So, making it just a little different than what I originally intended. You'll find out tomorrow!<strong>


	25. Pain and Peace

**And...here it is, just like I promised! A next day update. LoL, Steph, I spoil myself too by updating daily or every other day. I can't wait to see what comes next either half the time. In case any of you can't tell, I don't outline lol. I just kind of write what seems to come to me with only a few things planned ahead. Anyways. This is a little longer than some of my other chaps, too, lol. I really, really hope you guys like it. I might not have done the scene like some of you may have thought was necessary, but to me it seemed right. So, hope you like it. And hope you like the little teasing ender :D **

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><p>Once Spencer and Morgan were dressed to go, the two headed out to the living room where Aaron was sitting with Garcia, waiting for them. It amused Morgan to see Garcia blush slightly and Aaron avert his eyes from Spencer for just a quick moment. The kid really had embarrassed them both without even meaning to. When Morgan remembered the look on Aaron's face, he wondered what his boss really thought about what had happened. Some of the amusement leaked away. Spencer's actions hadn't upset Aaron, had they?<p>

Thinking on it had Morgan worrying. He looked at Garcia, giving her a look he hoped she understood before he turned back to Spencer. "Hey, kid, why don't' you and Garcia go take Clooney out back before we leave? He probably has to go and he doesn't seem to want to separate from you."

Spencer nodded and patted Clooney's head, which was in its new customary spot beside Spencer's leg. The smile Garcia wore said she understood that Morgan wanted to talk alone with Aaron. She rose to her feet and gestured to Spencer. "Come on, sweetie pie. Let's let the gorgeous dog run around a little before you leave me to housework here."

Only when he was sure the two were outside and the patio door closed did Morgan turned back to his friend. "Listen, Hotch. About before…" Morgan trailed off, trying to figure out how to put into words what he wanted to say. He had to fight off the urge to feel like he was betraying Spencer in some way by saying this. He just, he felt his boss, his friend, had a right to understand. "The kid, him coming out like that, it wasn't what you think."

Aaron raised an eyebrow at him. "I haven't quite decided what I think about it, Morgan. But I'll take the bait on this. What was it, then?"

"I'm not sure if I should be telling you this. It's something he said to me and I just, I don't want to betray that confidence but I think you should understand. All of you probably should, because I doubt that's the last time that'll happen." Sighing again, Morgan ran a hand over his scalp. "I don't think he really meant to say it to me, anyways, so I'm not telling secrets he's told me. He just kind of mumbled it to himself. When I was getting him ready for his bath that first day he remembered who he was, he had a strange look on his face and he muttered like he used to do when he was thinking and stuff just kind of, slipped out, you know?"

"Yes." Aaron nodded, a small smile on his lips. "He never realized he was thinking out loud. We always had a good chuckle over that."

"Well, that's what he was doing this time. He said something like 'When someone turns your body into an object, your boundaries slowly start to disappear'." He watched the pained look cross Aaron's face. "I think that, instead of the natural shyness lots of victims feel, Spencer kind of went the other way. He feels that there's no point in hiding himself or anything like that because there's always going to be someone bigger and stronger who can take what they want, whenever they want. So, being naked around us doesn't really matter to him. He figures 'what's the point? If they want me naked they'd do it anyways'."

"So this way, it's on his terms."

The two shared a sad look. "Exactly." Morgan muttered. He hated that this was true, but there was no denying it. "He doesn't hold the same boundaries anymore. He doesn't get embarrassed about it. Vincent, he took away that filter that most people have. Spencer doesn't see his body as him, really. He sees it as just an object."

A moment of silent understanding passed between them just seconds before the patio door opened and the sound of footsteps heralded their friends. Morgan put a smile on his face while he turned. "You ready to go, pretty boy?"

He could see Spencer was nervous about going outside again. But the young man nodded bravely. After exchanging goodbyes with Garcia, the three men headed out to Morgan's car. It surprised Spencer—though it didn't surprise Morgan—when Aaron automatically went to the backseat. That wasn't normal; the man never sat back there. Rarely was he the one not driving the car. But Morgan knew that Aaron was allowing Spencer to be by the person he felt most comfortable with.

Spencer awkwardly buckled his seatbelt; sometimes he still had a bit of a problem using his hands for certain things. It was just another thing that Morgan hated to see. Hated knowing that it had been so long since Spencer had done these kinds of things that his hands could barely remember how to do it. With practice, he was gradually getting better.

"So, Spencer, are you excited?" Aaron asked him gently while Morgan backed the car out of the driveway. Surprise had Spencer turning to look at the man in the backseat. "I'm sorry." He apologized quickly. "I don't understand."

"Are you excited to see Cindy? Morgan said that you really wanted to go see her." The way the unit chief spoke wasn't typical for him; but it was obvious to Morgan that Aaron was trying to make Spencer comfortable and as relaxed as possible. Trying to draw him into normal conversation. Spencer would only get better at speaking to people if he practiced. His obvious discomfort at talking to people, especially males, would never change if he didn't have conversations with them.

"I'm extremely sorry." Once again, Spencer apologized, sounding sincere in his apology. "Who is Cindy?"

Before Aaron could say anything, Morgan answered for him, understanding Spencer's confusion. "The pretty lady, Spencer. Her name is Cindy."

Out of the corner of his eye, Morgan saw Spencer's mouth drop open a little and his eyes widen. He turned to look towards Morgan. "We're going to see the pretty lady?" He asked incredulously.

"Well, yeah kid. I told you we would." While stopped at a light he looked over to flash a quick grin at him. "I know we were supposed to go yesterday, but you were upset and you could barely walk." Remembrance had Morgan furrowing his brows. He paid attention to the road as the light turned green, but he said "I had forgotten about your ankle. You don't seem to be walking painfully. Are you still hurting?"

Spencer didn't hesitate to answer. "Sleeping and the bath both helped take down the pain and swelling to manageable level. Though it's still swollen it doesn't hurt too badly."

"You're walking around on an injured ankle, Reid?" Aaron asked. His voice held that small hint of seriousness that he usually used when he was speaking as Unit Chief and not as Aaron.

For a second it seemed like Spencer wasn't going to speak anymore. Then, so quietly they barely heard him, he looked at his lap and whispered "I've walked on worse. Master hated when I limped, so I learned to think around the pain." He swallowed, the sound audible in the car.

Morgan's hands gripped the wheel a little tighter. He was walking around with an injured ankle because he didn't want to get in trouble for limping? Just when Morgan thought that Spencer totally trusted him, something else showed just how far they had to go. Not everything between them was perfect, even if their relationship was better than any others Spencer had. "Kid, listen." He said when he could trust himself to speak without growling. The anger wasn't directed at Spencer; no, it was all for Vincent. "If you hurt, I don't want you to hide it from me. I'm not going to get mad if you're limping or if you show something hurts. I'd rather know what's wrong so I can help you. You don't have to hide it from me. Or any of us."

"He's right, Reid." There was a tiny hint of sadness in Aaron's voice. "We want to help you, but to do that, you have to let us. We know it's not easy and we know it'll be hard for you. We don't expect you to just be better overnight. But when it comes to things like being hurt, please, don't hide it from us. At least tell Morgan. I know you trust him more than you trust us."

"I'm sorry." This time the apology was much quieter than before. What he said next wasn't what they had expected, though. "I don't mean to upset you all by the way I act around you. I don't understand why I trust Morgan more than I do the rest of you, but it is not something I do intentionally. All of you, you make me feel safe when you're there. You do. But…at a distance. I don't know what to say or how to say it to you and I worry constantly that I'll say or do something wrong, even though my mind and my memories tell me I wouldn't be in trouble for what I say."

Spencer paused. His long fingers were picking at his pant legs, a sign of both his nerves and his discomfort in the clothing. The car stayed silent, waiting, sensing that he wasn't done yet. They were right.

"I do trust you, Hotch. You were my boss, but you were also a friend. You were more of a father figure than my father or even Gideon. You stayed, when none of them did. You looked for me. You, your strength, taught me so much. I don't know if I would have survived without that strength that you gave me. But at the same time, it's the same strength that scares me. The Boy in me," and they all heard the capital on 'Boy', telling them that he didn't mean child but who he had been with Vincent "tells me that you could easily hurt me. Spencer knows better. But Spencer also knows that, if I let myself lean on all of you, if I let myself trust you all and get close, when Master comes, it'll hurt me so much more in the end. There'd be no way I could save my sanity this time."

His words struck them hard and deep. Morgan was grateful for another light because he felt tears clouding his vision. To hear Spencer speak so candidly was a good thing. Yet, what he said was heartbreaking. The most heartbreaking of all was the end. _When Master comes_, not _If Master comes_.

Aaron had caught that wording too. His voice was low and gentle, the same voice he used when speaking to victims on the job. "Reid…Spencer. Vincent is in jail. He can't touch you anymore."

"He's disappeared before, but he always comes back. Always." Was the low response. Then even lower, with a heartbreaking tremble, "He'll never give me up. I'm his property."

As they continued to the hospital, Morgan couldn't stop himself from reaching over and resting one hand on Spencer's leg. The younger man didn't startle. Instead, he slowly moved his own hand before finally, hesitantly, laying it over Morgan's.

"Pretty boy, you're no one's property." Morgan told him gruffly. "And I will never let him have you again. I will keep you safe with me, I promise you that."

After a brief moment, Spencer smiled at him. The conversation stopped after that. There really was nothing more any of them could say. So, silent, the three friends rode the rest of the way to the hospital.

* * *

><p>Nerves and eagerness burned inside of Spencer. He couldn't stop himself from wringing his hands together while he followed Morgan and Aaron down the hospital hallway. In his mind he knew that the pretty lady—Cindy. Her name was Cindy!—was alive, but at the same time he couldn't help being afraid that they were wrong. That maybe it was someone else they'd found. Someone else that was here. Or maybe they'd lied. Maybe no one had been saved and they just hadn't wanted to upset him with the truth. They hadn't wanted to tell him that he hadn't saved her. That he'd failed.<p>

He was working himself into quite a panic as they walked. What if it wasn't her? What would he do if he found out that she wasn't really alive? Maybe they'd got the wrong girl. Maybe Master had put a new pretty lady and the one he'd known was already dead. He couldn't bear that thought. He couldn't stand knowing that he'd failed.

When the two men in front of him stopped, Spencer almost ran into them, so lost in his circling thoughts was he. A tremble ran down his body when he saw where they were. Instantly his hands wrapped around his waist, a gesture he'd started not long after he'd been taken by Vincent. It was like he was holding himself together by doing it. Almost like he was being hugged.

"You ready to go in, Spencer?" Aaron asked him. Since the car ride, he'd stopped calling him Reid and instead was calling him Spencer. It actually was easier for Spencer to hear. He knew who he was now, of course he did. But having people call him Reid was like a reminder of the life he'd lost. It gave his heart a pang each time he heard it. Reid was gone. Reid had died down in that basement to be born again as boy. Maybe it was time for boy to die and be born again as Spencer.

He realized that they were staring at him and that he'd drifted off in his thoughts. Would they be upset with him for not answering? Was he going to get in trouble now? Would they stop him from seeing the pretty lady because he hadn't been listening?

Even amidst the panic, Spencer realized how his thoughts were looping. He recognized the 'Boy' trying to creep in and take over. _No! I am not him anymore. I'm Spencer. Spencer Reid._ Over and over he repeated that litany in the hopes it would help reaffirm his identity. "Yes." He croaked out in answer. He knew his voice trembled and that they heard it. Neither one said anything, though. Morgan simply reached out and knocked on the door.

After a second there was a muffled voice saying what sounded like 'come in'. Fear and panic mixed together, morphing into a horrid monster inside of Spencer. He shoved it down when Morgan opened the door and gestured to him. There was confidence and support in Morgan's gaze. Aaron was also looking at him in total support and understanding. Those gave Spencer the strength to put one foot in front of the other and walk into the hospital room.

His eyes swept the room quickly; a habit he wasn't able to stop. _Hyper vigilance, a form of PTSD_ his mind supplied. Knowing didn't stop it, though. He automatically checked to see who was in the room and what the exits were and any areas of threat. It only took a quick second and then his eyes were latched onto the hospital bed.

A woman was there, sitting up in the middle of the bed, legs crossed underneath her. She sat without the support of the lifted back. Dressed in a hospital gown, she still managed to look healthy. Almost happy. Dark hair, almost black, was cropped shorter than it had been when he'd last seen her. Dark brown eyes were focused on him, widening as she did the same thing he was doing; taking inventory of the other. She looked thin, but not as thin as before.

There was a cast on her right wrist. The way she sat suggested injuries to her ribs; Spencer knew there was. He remembered the kick that had put them there. Little half healed bruises and cuts were visible on any exposed skin. He knew it would be worse on her back.

Tension drained from Spencer. He let out a soft breath, a sigh of relief, hearing her let one out as well. Then he was moving toward her. Still, neither spoke. They didn't need the words. Most of the time in that basement, they hadn't spoken. It was one of Master's rules. She wasn't to talk to the boy without permission. He wasn't to speak to the pretty ladies unless giving them orders from Master. So, as he had with other pretty ladies, Spencer had perfected the art of not speaking. But this time, she had done so as well. They had shared things with one another without a word.

When he reached the bed, he didn't think, just reached a hand out. Hers moved at the same time. When their fingers laced together, she offered him a smile. Tears were filling her eyes, leaking down her cheeks in silent rivers. Spencer felt it as the tears slid down his own cheeks as well. She was alive. He had done it. He'd helped save her.

Her eyes said what she wanted and Spencer moved to comply. He climbed easily into her bed, never breaking his hold on her hand. When he was up, she shifted, turning so that they faced one another. Unconsciously they mimicked the poses they had held in their hell. He drew his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. She stayed cross legged, facing him, their hands still loosely linked.

She brought her casted hand up, just enough of her fingers free to push his hair back and tuck it behind his ear. The gesture made her smile grow more.

For a few minutes they just looked at one another. Looked over the injuries on the other person. Looked into a set of eyes that understood hell. In one another was a bond forged by pain and violence. They had lived in hell; witnessed it in one another. They'd seen horrible things and had horrible things done to them. Yet they sat here now, two survivors. Free. Not whole, no, but not fully broken either. Sitting here, each one felt a small broken part inside start to stitch shut.

So much was said and yet still nothing had been spoken. After another long silence, she smiled even more at him. "Hello." She broke their silence and it seemed perfect. Right. "I'm Cindy Meyers."

He felt an attempt at a grin tugging at his lips. He knew what she was doing here. "My name is Spencer Reid."

"It's nice to finally meet you right, Spencer Reid."

A real, true smile slid over his lips. "It's nice to finally meet you right too, Cindy Meyers."

Those words were enough for them. They sat there, just enjoying the feeling of being with one another, of being alive. He knew in that moment that here was a friendship he would never lose. Here was a person who would always be a part of his life. A friend; maybe, one day, even like a sister. They had lived through so much together in such a short time. In a way, she was the only person alive who fully understood what he had gone through.

Not just being told, though. Not just seeing a piece of it here or there. She had witnessed it all firsthand. She had lived through some of it. When he'd been bleeding in the corner, she had mopped his blood off the floor. He had risked his life to save hers. Nothing could break that bond now.

How much time passed, Spencer had no idea. He was content to sit there. More content than he had been in longer than he could remember. The room was silent except for the gentle hum of the machines. Eventually she turned, pulling open the drawer beside the bed. When she'd pulled something out, she closed the drawer again and then turned and handed him a piece of paper. Looking down, he saw the phone number and the address and knew what she was offering. He gave her another of his rare smiles.

Spencer noticed that Cindy's eyes were growing heavy. With a small gesture of his free hand, he indicated that she should lie down. She did so, letting him scoot so that he sat by her feet, the hand that had been holding hers now resting on her ankle. When her eyes closed, Spencer's closed as well. As he had done for her before, he sat now, letting the warmth of his hand seep into her ankle, letting her fall asleep knowing that she was safe. He had angled his body while she slept when they were in the basement together so that he could rest his hand on her. The only way it would work was for it to be her feet. So he would stay there, hand on her ankle, watching over her while she slept, waking her if Master came so that she was never fully asleep when he arrived. Never caught unawares.

He listened as her breathing started to even out. Her lips were still curved and her eyes were closed, but he heard the soft sleep filled "Thank you" that she murmured. Then her breathing evened and he knew she was asleep.

For a few minutes more he sat there until a sound at the door alerted him. His body instantly tensed and he almost moved to wake her before he realized that it was only a nurse coming in. That was also when he realized that Morgan and Aaron were on the other side of the room, silently giving him the privacy he had needed for this without leaving him totally alone, something that he appreciated.

The nurse, a matronly looking woman with kind eyes and a gentle smile, walked over and checked the machines by the bed. Then she turned her smile on him. "She'll be going home in a few days." She told him in a low voice. "They kept her a little longer than normal because she hasn't really been eating or sleeping. She's been too anxious about something." The kindness in her eyes grew. "I think I know why, now. This is the calmest she's slept since she arrived."

There was nothing he could say to that. So he nodded at the nurse, who smiled even brighter in return. She looked over at Cindy, who was still peacefully sleeping. "Why don't you let her sleep, honey? She sure needs it."

He could tell that the nurse was right. As much as he wanted to sit here and watch over her, he had to remind himself that it wasn't his job anymore. She was safe. He didn't need to be her guard. But it had felt good to see her. To know for sure that she had survived. Gently he stroked his hand over her ankle one last time before unfolding himself from the bed.

His eyes lifted to Morgan, who was smiling at him on the other side of the room. There was no hesitation in Spencer's step as he walked straight over to him. When they were facing one another, Spencer kept the calm that this room had created in him and he reached out, putting his hand into Morgan's. The other man said nothing, seeming to understand Spencer's need for silence.

In the quiet of the room, Spencer gave Morgan and Aaron a true smile. "Let's go home." He whispered. And, together, that was what they did. The three men left the hospital room. When they reached the car, Morgan gave Aaron the keys and then pulled Spencer in the back with him .When Morgan lifted his arm, Spencer easily slid underneath it. He had no idea if this peaceful feeling would last. He didn't know if it was going to change anything. But, right then, he didn't care. He felt calmer than he had in a long time.

The whole ride home he stayed right there in the curve of Morgan's arm, his head resting against the older man's shoulder. It was wonderful. No one commented on the fact that they didn't stop to eat. The two older men were both thinking they would just order in. This had been too good of a trip to ruin by taking Spencer somewhere that might make him uncomfortable.

Once they reached home, Spencer easily climbed out of the car with Morgan, their hands joining together once again. The contact felt good. It grounded Spencer in ways he hadn't even realized he needed. That calm was still with him enough that, when they stepped inside the house and saw Garcia talking to a dark haired man, he didn't panic as he might have before. He nervously slid a little closer to Morgan, yes, but a full blown panic didn't hit him at the sight of someone he didn't know. Spencer actually felt a little proud of himself.

That was, until the man turned to look at them. Spencer watched as the man's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. Shock was the first expression Spencer read. It was quickly followed by pain, love, joy, and so many others that he couldn't even keep track of it.

"Spencer!" the man cried out.

The nerves grew a little, invading his peace. Who was this? How did he know his name? This time he deliberately stepped closer to Morgan. When the man started to move forward, Spencer took a small step back. The man looked confused. "Spencer? Are…aren't you happy to see me?"

"Who are you?" The words slipped out before Spencer even thought of it. Something about the voice seemed just slightly familiar, but no face popped into his memory. Nothing that was tied to this strange man.

Shock took over the guy's expression. He looked over at Garcia, who was now chewing her lip, then to Morgan and Aaron before finally settling his gaze on Spencer again. "Who am I? It's me, man. Ethan."

Spencer continued to stare at him, quivering when this Ethan took a step forward. "I don't know who you are." He said. The whole room fell silent.

* * *

><p><strong>So, what do you think? Like how I ended it? Hate it? R&amp;R and let me know! Your reviews make me so happy. Every time I log on and see so many it just amazes me! Oh, and by the way, that scene with Spencer talking in the car to Aaron, that wasn't my intention to have that happen. At least not yet. :P But Spencer, he's so stubborn. I told him maybe he should wait to talk to Hotch at a different time but did he listen to me? Of course not. He just gave me that sweet little puppy face and just started talking, whether I wanted him to or not. So if you don't like it, blame him, it's his fault! :D<strong>

**Anyways, hopefully I'll update in a day but it may take two. I need to figure out how this Ethan/Spencer thing is going to go. Eek! And, well, I think I'm going to do part of the next chapter with the girls. I suck at writing them so they haven't really appeared a lot here. Dave too. Wow. I need to bring them in, don't you think? Poor folks just getting dumped to the side like that. Hmph. Anyways, thanks for reading and thanks to any who review!**


	26. The Inferno

**Ok, so, here's this chap. It just kind of rolled out, lol. Not entirely sure how I want to play Ethan in this story (good or bad? What do you think? I really want your opinions!) but for now, he's just in the middle. I'm not trying to make him good or bad in this chapter :)**

**Warnings: Sensitive violent topics at the end of the chapter. Read at own discretion. I do not go into huge detail, just barely talk about it, but the next chapter will describe it in more detail in a dream if you all are ok with that. Let me know! Anyways, yeah, also some language.**

**Well, I hope you like the chapter. R&R!**

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><p>The silence in the room seemed almost deafening. Shock played over each face present except for Spencer. The young man knew his face was a mask of panic and confusion. Should he know who this man was? And, if so, why didn't he? Why didn't he know him? Everyone was looking at him like he should. But he didn't. There was no memory attached to that face. No recollection that sparked at the man before him; a vague sense at first that the voice was familiar, but there were thousands of people that sounded semi-alike in their voices. He could simply be thinking that this Ethan fellow sounded like someone else.<p>

Ethan was the first to recover. "What do you mean, you don't know me? Man, we've been friends a long time. We've known each other for years." He said slowly. As if speaking slower would make his words more understandable. Or like he was speaking to someone with a mental handicap. _I'm not retarded_ Spencer wanted to tell him. _I just have absolutely no idea who you are_. But he didn't say it. Of course he didn't. This man was a stranger; there was no telling how he would act or what he was capable of. What if he was here to hurt him?

That thought had him paling and clutching tighter to Morgan's hand. This 'Ethan' wouldn't hurt him, would he? He wouldn't try to do anything to him? What if…what if he wanted to Have him? No, no. No! That couldn't happen. He wouldn't let that happen. Master told him not to let anyone else Have him. He belonged to Master. No one else.

It was no surprise when Aaron moved just a little more in front of Spencer, not totally blocking him, but offering him shelter and preventing Ethan from coming forward. "When Spencer came home, he didn't remember any of us." Aaron said calmly. "His return of memories has been kind of fragmented. Not everything seems to be in the proper place yet."

That was a good description for it. But that meant that there were still people he didn't remember? Was he going to come across more people like this who knew him? People he wouldn't recognize? The thought was terrifying. How much more was he missing?

He couldn't stop himself from peeking out around Aaron's shoulder. The comfort of the two alpha males, people he knew would protect him, gave him the confidence to whisper "We…we were friends?"

"Well, yeah, man." Ethan ran a hand through his hair. His expression seemed pained. "We were. Good friends, too. You really…you don't remember anything about me?"

"Your voice, maybe. I don't know." And it made his head hurt to think about it. His mind was switching into overdrive, trying to find some kind of memory, something to help him with this. Why couldn't he remember an entire person? Not just missing fragments, but a whole person! With his free hand Spencer picked at his pant leg again, trying to draw the itchy fabric away from his skin.

The hand holding his squeezed softly. It drew his eyes to Morgan, who wore a kind expression. "Pretty boy, don't force it. Remember, it comes easier when you just relax. It'll come back to you. You just have to let it happen naturally."

It amazed him how his mind seemed to calm under Morgan's simple words. Just that reassurance from him and Spencer felt his tension drain away a little. "Ok." He whispered. Morgan was someone he knew he could trust. Someone who wouldn't steer him wrong or hurt him. In Spencer's world, that was an amazing thing.

"Why don't we move this somewhere other than the entry way, my lovelies?" Garcia said as she stepped toward the group. There was a wide grin on her face that was meant to set everyone at ease. "I have coffee on. I'm sure we'd all like a cup, right?" As she spoke, she put a hand on Ethan's arm, gesturing him toward the dining room. Aaron followed them.

That gave Morgan and Spencer a moment together. The older man turned to Spencer, bringing a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. The warm feeling it gave Spencer was surprising.

"Are you ok with this, Spencer?" He asked him. The fact that he asked, that his face suggested that he really cared about the answer, made the warm feeling inside of Spencer grow. It was gestures like this that reaffirmed in Spencer's mind the trust he held in Morgan. "Yes." His answer was a whisper. "You'll stay with me?"

"Of course I will." Now Morgan was smiling at him. It brought back a little of Spencer's earlier peace. "Now let's go before they begin to wonder about us, kid."

The two moved toward the dining room. Spencer was walking slowly, trying to maintain his even pace. His ankle was starting to get sore again and he didn't want to show it, no matter what his friends said. That kind of training was just too hard to kick. When Morgan let go of his hand to sit down, Spencer's training kicked in even more and had him stepping back toward the wall, sliding silently down. He ignored the pain that caused in his back and his ankle, simply squatting there with his hands folded in his lap and his head down. Occasionally Master had him stand this way when there was dinner guests; close enough to serve and observe but also out of the way.

Ethan was the first to notice. His eyes were locked on Spencer as the young man had started to slide down the wall. "Spencer, what are you doing?" he asked curiously. His eyebrows were drawn down. It gave his face a serious cast.

The look terrified Spencer. Had he done something wrong? Was he displeasing the guest in the home already? That hadn't been his intention! He'd been trying to, to be good! No matter that this guy said he knew him, he was a guest in the house. Rules around guests were vastly different than others.

Morgan turned in his chair to look at Spencer. His eyes were suddenly sad. Though he didn't stand, he did hold out one hand to the trembling man. "Come here, pretty boy. You sit at the table just like the rest of us. Please?"

Unsure, Spencer looked at his hand and then up to his face and back again. Really? "I…I'm not supposed to." He whispered as quietly as possible. He didn't want to get in trouble. "Master makes me s-stay at the wall w-when guests are here."

"Your Master isn't here, Spencer, and you don't have to listen to him anymore. Remember? It's just us here."

He bit his lip, the two parts of him warring together. It was scary, how easy the Boy came back out in him. In his mind he chanted his name, over and over. Then he reached out and took Morgan's hand, pulling himself away from the wall and sliding into the chair beside his best friend. His shoulders hunched in and he bowed his head a little, trying to make as small a target as possible. Under the table, his and Morgan's hands stayed linked, a silent support for him.

Garcia was passing around coffee for everyone, playing the part of hostess. The room seemed quiet while she did so. But once she sat down, it seemed like enough had been enough for Ethan. The strange man made a strangled sound and spoke in a hard, demanding voice. "Ok, what the hell is going on here? I want some answers! No one even called to tell me you'd come home, Spencer Reid. I had to find out on the news when they said a lost FBI agent had been found. Then, when I fly all the way up here, all your office tells me is that you're taking some personal time. I had to hunt down the contact numbers you gave me and call around until someone told me to look for you here!" He sounded furious at the end of his rant. "Now I get here and you tell me you don't even know who I am and you try to sit against the wall like a dog and you're talking about some Master. What is going _on_ here?"

With each word that came out of Ethan's mouth, Spencer drew further and further into himself. He knew the sounds of anger intimately. He knew all the degrees of that emotion. Right then he knew that Ethan was furious and it absolutely terrified him. He let go of Morgan's hand to bring his hands back to his lap and grip at his pants. His whole body tensed in preparation for what was coming.

Through the roaring in his ears Spencer vaguely heard Morgan snap out "Hey! Watch your temper in my house, man, or get out. Do _not_ yell at him. You have no idea what you're talking about right now."

"Then someone tell me what's going on! What happened to my friend, here? And who the fuck is this Master fucker?"

Aaron's voice came next, calm as always in the center of the storm. "Spencer was held hostage for almost two years. Beyond that, what happened to him is his story to tell if he so chooses. We are not obligated to divulge those kind of secrets. They aren't ours to tell."

"So what, is this Master, this Vincent bastard, he was the jerk who held you, Spencer? What the hell did he do to you? Did he hurt you? Cause I swear, I'll kill the man myself."

Through the fog, Ethan's words penetrated, bringing to life a reaction in Spencer that he had no control over. This man wanted to kill Master! No! He couldn't do that, could he? Master was Master. No one hurt him. No one did anything to him. Boy needed his master. He needed him! Spencer's head jerked up and his eyes were wide. "No!" he croaked out. "Don't you touch him! You stay away from him!"

The only thing that kept Spencer from jumping out of his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder was that, even in this state of mind, he recognized the touch as belonging to Morgan. His wide eyes shot over to his friend. Morgan didn't blink, didn't flinch. His voice was soothing. "Don't worry, Spencer. No one's going to hurt Vincent, ok? No one is going to do anything to him. He's still in jail, just where he was before. Ethan didn't really mean that he was going to kill him, ok? He's just upset about you being hurt. That's all, sugar."

He wasn't going to? "But, why'd he say it, then?" Spencer asked quietly. "Why would he say that?"

"He doesn't know everything yet, sugar. He has no idea what happened to you or what your relationship with Vincent is."

Spencer looked over at Ethan, cringing at the look the man wore. "Master is Master." He managed to screw up the courage to say. To him, that said it all. But when Ethan still looked confused, Spencer tried to find the words to say this right. "Master teaches me to be strong. To be good." When still Ethan looked lost, Spencer turned back to Morgan. "Can, can you help me? He doesn't…he's not understanding."

The hand on his shoulder squeezed gently before dropping back to Morgan's cup. He nodded at Spencer and then lifted his face to Ethan. "Vincent kept Spencer in his basement this whole time. He…trained him. Hurt him in an effort to teach him to be a 'good boy'. He beat him constantly. We've only had him back for a little bit now and we're still working on the healing from this. Right, Spencer?"

Spencer nodded. After another brief smile, Morgan kept talking. "He blocked all of us out so he wouldn't hurt as much anymore while he was there. When he first came home, he didn't remember any of us. Apparently not all his memories are back all the way yet. So it may take him a while to remember you. Just, be cautious. Don't touch or come close unless he gives the ok and most definitely don't yell at him or threaten Vincent. You won't like the results."

"He suffers Stockholm Syndrome." Aaron added quietly. "He injured cops and medics both when they tried to take him away from Vincent at the house where they found him."

Surprisingly, Spencer actually didn't mind them sitting here and discussing this in front of him. He actually preferred it to them talking about it when he wasn't there. He didn't care that Ethan knew what the truth was. He didn't care who knew. This was his life. Though, as each day passed he was slowly coming to see how wrong that life had been, a big part of him wasn't able to let go yet.

The voices continued around him for a while. Spencer paid them no attention. He just sat in his chair, his hand sin his lap, listening to the hum of voices without registering the words. His fingers picked at his pant legs, trying to control the urge to shuck them all of right then and there. Morgan said he was allowed to dress how he wanted here at home, but maybe those rules didn't apply with a guest in the home. Spencer didn't want to embarrass Morgan by breaking a rule. So he sat there and tried not to think how confined he felt; how much his skin itched underneath the rough material.

He didn't start paying attention again until he heard his name. With wide eyes he looked up, not quite sure what was wanted of him and terribly afraid he'd missed something important. "I' m sorry, what?"

Ethan gave him a hesitant smile. "I was thinking of things we used to do together. They thought maybe if I talked about it a little, it might help you remember." He said hesitantly. "We didn't really share a lot of interests. I mean, we both started at the FBI, but I never made it through training. I play jazz down in New Orleans now. Intellectually, you were always smarter than me. But we shared interests in books. Does any of that spark anything?"

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. "I'm sorry."

"We had a few favorites together. We would get together sometimes and read Shakespeare. Or you'd introduce me to some old book that your mom told you about. I remember the first time you got your hands on Dante's Inferno. You came over and read it out loud to me in English so I could understand what you were saying."

It was as if the entire world suddenly closed in on Spencer. He froze totally; not moving, not blinking, not even breathing. A memory slammed into him with the force of a freight train, giving him no time to prepare himself, no time to stand up against the onslaught. But it wasn't of Ethan. It wasn't reading this story to him.

No. so strong was the memory, Spencer actually felt as if he was kneeling on the cold basement floor once again, being bent onto all fours. He felt the hands gripping his hips and heard that disgusting voice, sick with the dark passion that the boy hated so much, demanding he recite. Something. Anything. As the first thrust ripped through him like a knife, he screamed out the first words that came to mind, the start of Dante's Inferno.

Right on top of that memory came another, stronger and harder than the last. The sound of laughter echoing around him. The sick smell of blood and semen on his body, in the air. Vomit on the floor. And sweat. Always Master's sweat. "I liked that story, boy." That voice made him shudder. He hated it. Hated that sick sound in it that foretold something horrible. "You think he was right on hell? Wait till you see mine. Wait till you see the hell I made for you."

Just barely did Spencer have enough of a grip on reality to finally make his body move. He pushed back from the table, trying to get away from them. To get away from everything. The room felt like it was closing in on him, crushing him down. He didn't want to remember this! He didn't want to think about it!

Voices were crying out to him but he couldn't respond. He shoved back from them so hard that his chair knocked over, toppling him to the ground. He didn't care. He scrambled on all fours, trying to get away from any of the hands that reached toward him. Spencer pushed himself against the wall, into the corner of the room. There was no way out. They all blocked his exits.

A howling sound filled the room that Spencer knew wasn't coming from him. It sounded muffled and far away. Then another sound, one he didn't recognize, only seconds before he heard something scraping on the ground. Spencer curled into himself, shielding his body, hands gripped tight in his hair as he tried to push the memory away. No, no! No!

Suddenly something was in front of him, warm and furry, snarling at the crowd of people. That snarl was enough of a shock for Spencer's brain to clear just enough for him to see who was in front of him. Clooney. That was Clooney. The dog was standing between Spencer and the others, his lips curled up while he snarled low in his throat.

Shaking, Spencer reached one hand out, resting it on the dog's neck. The warmth of the contact pushed some of the memories back. A sob broke free from Spencer's lips and then he found his arms suddenly full of warmth. Clooney had turned toward him and Spencer flung his arms around the dog, clinging to him as the sobs ran convulsively through him.

He didn't hear Aaron gathering Ethan, leading him out of the room, out the front of the house. Aaron wanted to give Spencer the privacy he needed with the two people he was most comfortable around. He also planned on taking advantage of the moment to try and calm Ethan down and explain a few things to him.

Spencer just continued to sob into Clooney's neck. When he heard movement, he felt Clooney's body vibrate with another snarl. He lifted swollen, wet eyes, looking to see who was coming toward him. He wasn't afraid of who it was. The dog was protecting him. Then he saw it was Morgan. "Hush." He gasped out to Clooney, who instantly quieted, letting Morgan come closer. The older man squatted down, one hand resting gently on Spencer's arm.

How long it took Spencer before he stopped sobbing, he had no idea. But eventually he was down to silent tears. His body felt weak, drained. Morgan must have been able to see because he murmured something that Spencer didn't understand and then he was moving him, lifting him into his arms. Spencer didn't protest. He clung to the warmth and safety of Morgan's arms.

When he felt himself being laid down on the bed, he opened his eyes to look at his two friends; Garcia stood just behind Morgan. "Will you two l-lay with me?" Somehow he found the strength to ask that. Neither of them hesitated.

Garcia took a seat on the bed, holding one of his hands between hers. "You want to talk about it, sweetie?" She asked him gently.

Morgan sat at the head of the bed, leaning against the headboard. He gently lifted Spencer so that his head was cradled against Morgan's stomach. Clooney hopped up and lay against his back. He was surrounded by safety and warmth. That was what gave him the courage to start to speak.

"I was…I was there, again. Not at the normal house. At the quiet place he went to. A place where he kept me sometimes when he…when he wanted to make me scream the most." A small shudder ran down Spencer's frame, making the bed tremble a little. "I was kneeling on the floor in my dream. It…it was the inferno, all over again."

"The inferno?" Garcia asked.

This time Spencer's tremble was more pronounced. Morgan stroked a hand soothingly over his hair. "Shh, kid. It's ok. You don't have to talk about it."

But Spencer just ignored him. He had to get this out or this memory would eat him alive. "He made me recite, over and over. It pleased him." He whispered. "One time, early on, I…I recited Dante's Inferno." He heard the small sounds they made and knew they understood now what had triggered this. "It seemed r-right. I was in hell. M-Master, he liked it. So h-he made his i-i-inferno."

The two friends stayed quiet, allowing Spencer to gather the courage to go on. After a minute, he did. His voice was flat, the stutter absent as he spoke in an almost detached way. He felt himself almost detaching from his words. It was the only way he would get it out.

"The first layer of hell is limbo. Then lust, gluttony, greed, anger, heresy, violence, fraud, and treachery. Master made his own levels for me to go through. He took me out there, out to that little place, so he could experiment without fear of being heard."

It was almost easier to speak now. His words were so detached he barely even realized he was saying them. "He was excited about a new game. He called it the Inferno. Instead of Dante's Inferno, he made his own levels. First, though, he decided that Hell wasn't right where I was. Hell wasn't bright light and sunshine. Hell was dark. He knew I hated the dark. So he…he made me close my eyes and put superglue on them."

Morgan went completely still. There was a loud gasp from Garcia's direction. But Spencer wasn't done.

"For limbo, he figured that it meant that one was between life and death. So, he strangled me until I passed out. Then he revived me and would do it again. Lust was a simple one. He raped me, over and over, in every way he knew how to do, until I was lying in a pool of my own blood. Greed, he whipped me, demanding I beg for more until I lost the ability to speak. Anger. He ordered me to defy him so that he could beat me. Then he'd make me stand and defy him again and beat me again. Hours it went on."

His voice fractured for a second, that calm breaking. Spencer had to force it back into place. He could see, clearly, the images that went with each one. But he couldn't stop now that he'd started.

"Violence was the simplest. He beat me with his bare hands then. Fists and feet. After that, I think he got bored trying to connect them. From there he simply did what he wanted. He drew me a bath to clean me and tried to drown me. He left me naked tied to a tree overnight. That was seven levels. That was as far as he got. He didn't make nine like Dante. Twice, in the time he had me, he did this. I almost didn't survive either time. It took me a week of no touching to recover from each one."

Now the control finally broke. He couldn't hold it in anymore. Tears ran down his cheek and he felt the sobs building back up. Image after image flashed into his brain, hitting him so hard it was like a physical blow with each one. The pain built and built until he didn't know if he could take it anymore. So his mind resorted to its most natural defense. It drew him down into unconsciousness; he passed out before he saw the tears on Morgan's cheeks or heard Garcia sobbing lightly nearby. His mind went down into the dark where nothing hurt anymore.


	27. We're Helping Him Heal

**Ok I know this is short, I'm sorry! It's kind of a filler chap, I guess that's what they call it. But I felt Ethan and Aaron talking needed to be shown. So, here it is! I think you'll be able to see how I want Ethan to be by how I portray him here. No one really wanted a bad Ethan, so I won't let him be bad. But I may make him a little, well, accident prone when it comes to Spencer. We'll see. :) But, he will definitely be a good guy! Anyways, thank you for all your reviews again! Just, wow, you guys are so great. Really, you are. You make me feel fantastic! *blush* I just can't believe how positive my feedback on this story is. I had no idea it would take off so well. So yeah, you guys are GREAT.**

**Sorry, sorry, I'll let you get to the story now, lol. Enjoy!**

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><p>With a firm hand, Aaron slowly steered Ethan out of the dining room. The sound of sobbing seemed to follow after them. Occasionally there was a gasping sound, almost like a scream that was trying to rip free. As much as Aaron wanted to go and comfort the boy in there, he knew that he couldn't. Not right now. He wasn't who Spencer needed. The young man would be in good hands with Garcia and Morgan.<p>

Ethan didn't even resist being moved. He walked like he was in a daze; his eyes distant and slightly glassy. Aaron recognized the signs of shock in the other man. He continued moving Ethan until they were outside and on the front porch. There he led the man to the front step and helped him to sit down. Once he was seated, Aaron sat down beside him and waited, knowing that Ethan needed a moment.

After a long moment, Ethan shuddered slightly and dropped his head down into his hands so that he was cradling his head. "God." He whispered raggedly. "What the hell did I do? I didn't mean to terrify him like that!"

"We don't always know what's going to set Reid off." Aaron told him in a firm yet gentle voice. "We don't know what all of his triggers are. When I visited him the other day, the vibrations of my cell phone sent him into a panic attack." That still made him feel a little sick to his stomach. "Apparently Vincent used a cattle prod on him. The vibrations of the phone reminded him of the sound it made. So, make sure your phone is on sound while you're here. The more we learn, the more we can be cautious."

His words had Ethan jerking his head up. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open in a little O of surprise. "A cattle prod? He used a damn cattle prod on him? Jesus! What the hell happened to him?"

Though he'd known that this was what would happen when he brought Ethan outside, it didn't make it any easier for Aaron to talk about. His hands clenched together tightly while he rested his elbows on his knees and stared off at the road, not really seeing it at all. "It's like Morgan explained in there. For almost two years, Spencer was held down in the basement of Vincent's house. He was trained to become the man's Boy. He was trained to recognize Vincent as Master. The man beat him, daily. Sexually assaulted him. And he videotaped the entire thing." That had Aaron pausing to control his emotions. "We saw a few of the videos. The things he did…" He couldn't finish that thought. It hurt too much.

"How the hell did he survive that?" There was a tremble of emotion in Ethan's voice.

Aaron shook his head. "I have no idea. The things that were done to him would have broken a lesser person. But Spencer, he has this strength to him that he doesn't even see. Apparently at some point his brain, striving to protect itself, took all the memories of his life and locked them away. Walled them off so he forgot who he was. He forgot everything but being Boy. I think it might have been what saved him."

"So he had no recollection of being Spencer? But…he seems to now. He remembers all of you." There was a slightly bitter edge to the words.

He couldn't blame Ethan for feeling that way. Aaron remembered, clearly, the way it had felt when they'd realized that Spencer didn't know any of them. Or when he'd remembered Garcia, but none of the rest of them. Though they'd known Spencer couldn't help it, they couldn't stop themselves from being hurt by it a little.

"When he first came back, when we saw him at the station, he didn't even know his own name. When Agent Prentiss asked him what his name was, he answered with Boy. He had absolutely no memory of a life before his Master."

"Wait, at the station? How…how was he found?"

So, for the next ten minutes, Aaron slowly explained about how Spencer had been found. He told Ethan about the women Vincent had taken and the cops raiding his house and finding Spencer. He told him about going to the station and their first glimpse of their lost friend. Then he told him about how Spencer's memory slowly started to come back and how it was jogged by going to his apartment. He also told him about Cindy.

When he was done, Aaron sat quietly, knowing that it was a lot for a person to process. He gave Ethan the silence that was needed to take it all in. It was quite a story to tell. Normally, Aaron wouldn't have just shared Spencer's story with anyone. But before Spencer had panicked at the table, he'd basically given open permission to Morgan to help make Ethan understand. Since Morgan wasn't here to do it, Aaron felt that the job fell to him.

After a while, Ethan finally spoke. "I can't believe he lived through so much. He looked so, so small in there. Just a shadow of himself. You can see in his eyes how broken he is. Those eyes have always given him away."

"He is. But we're helping him heal. Morgan's helping him heal."

"I'm surprised he's staying here with Morgan. To live through that and then to stay with a big guy like Morgan? How does that work without sending Spencer into a panic every time Morgan moves?"

A small smile curved Aaron's lips. It did his heart good to see the way that Spencer and Morgan were with one another. Seeing their interaction helped Aaron hold faith that things would end up ok for the young man. Though neither may have seen it, Aaron was good at observing people. He was a damn good profiler. He saw the way that Spencer tended to gravitate toward Morgan even when he didn't seem to notice it. He saw how, when something stressful started, Spencer would look to Morgan for reassurance, even if it was just a meeting of eyes.

He knew that Morgan was worrying about transference. In a normal situation, Aaron would worry about that as well. There were plenty of documented cases where a victim who had been beaten into a blind devotion to another person would transfer that devotion to a rescuer or someone else. But what he saw between them wasn't like that. Spencer didn't look to Morgan for permission or validation. He looked to him for comfort and reassurance. He looked to him with trust and, though Aaron knew the two definitely didn't see this, with love.

Realizing that Ethan was still waiting for a response, Aaron cleared his throat. He couldn't wipe away the little smile, though. "Morgan is kind of a special case for Spencer. He trusts him in ways he trusts no one else. The women, he's pretty comfortable around. In the world he lived in, women didn't pose a threat. Garcia is one he's close to as well. But, out of all of us on the team, he and Morgan shared a bond of trust before he was taken that was very strong. Even at his lowest, Spencer knows he can trust him and count on him to be there for him and help him." He didn't mention the feelings between the two; that was definitely not his business to say.

Ethan ran a hand over his face before dropping his hands down. "So a part of his brain remembers that trust and relies on it?"

"Pretty much. If you plan on staying around, I feel it's only fair to warn you of that and what it means." Turning, Aaron looked at the other man, wanting to impress the importance of this on him. "Spencer does not take well to touches he doesn't initiate. Unless he tells you to or gives you permission, don't touch him. When he's panicking, back off and give him breathing space. Don't crowd him. All the usual protective urges you have about him, don't give in to." Pausing, Aaron made sure those words had sunk in before he continued. "Now, how that relates to Morgan and the trust is this. Those rules right there? They don't apply to Morgan."

"What?"

"Morgan is the only one that can bring Spencer down from a panic attack. He's the only one, aside from the women, that can touch Spencer freely. Sometimes Spencer doesn't even like the women touching him. But Morgan can. When he's scared, he goes to Morgan. He doesn't feel crowded by Morgan's presence."

That seemed to throw Ethan. "Wow."

"One other thing." And this one was important too. Aaron was going to do for Ethan what Morgan had done for him. "Spencer was kept naked where he was held. He was forbidden clothes. So he's not fond of wearing them anymore. They itch his skin and make him feel confined. Seeing him dressed as he was today is not going to commonly happen unless he's leaving the house. He and Morgan made a deal that he had to dress in public, but at home he can dress as comfortably as he wants."

That, of course, prompted another round of explanation. To Ethan's questions, Aaron had to explain how Spencer viewed his body now and why he wasn't bothered by being naked in front of anyone. His cheeks flushed slightly as he explained how Spencer had come out naked that morning from his shower and had seen nothing wrong with it. "I wanted to warn you so that, when you see him, you don't panic too hard. He's still pretty beat up right now. His body, it's a mess, peppered in with old scars. I'm trying to give you the heads up on this so you can try and prepare yourself for it. It's hard to see."

"Jesus." Once again Ethan ran his hand over his face. "This kid's life has been one hell after another. Doesn't he ever get to get a break?"

Wasn't that just the truth?

Aaron was saved from having to say anything by Garcia coming out the front door. One look at her face had the unit chief rising. Then he did something that he rarely did; even rarer where other people could see. He walked over and embraced the silently crying woman. For a long minute he simply held her there in his arms and let her cry. He wouldn't ask what Spencer had said; that was personal and private. Not to mention that he would never dream of putting her through the hell of telling whatever it was that had made her cry like that.

Eventually she pulled back from him, taking a handkerchief out of her pocket to dab at her eyes. When she finally had herself under control she lifted watery eyes to her boss. "Thanks."

Aaron smiled down at her. No matter that he and Garcia were polar opposites—her so bright and sparkly and bubbly and him so calm and serious—she had always been one of his favorite people. A little ray of sunshine in all of their lives at the BAU. "You know I'm here any time you need it, Garcia."

"Yes, sir." Sniffling, she wiped her eyes again. "He, he's asleep now. He kind of passed out on us after talking."

"Do you think he'll be ok?"

She nodded softly. "I think so. Morgan and Clooney are with him. They'll both stay there until he wakes up. He won't wake up alone, not after something like that."

"Good." Aaron gave a firm nod. "Morgan will take care of him." It wasn't a question, it was a certainty. He knew that Spencer was in good hands in there with Morgan. Taking a deep breath, Aaron sized up the people around him as well as the situation. He turned to Ethan, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you go ahead and settle in at your hotel, Ethan? Go lay down a while, take some time to process this. It's a lot to take in. I promise, Spencer will still be here when you come back. But he's probably not going to be up for company for the rest of today."

"Yeah." Ethan slowly rose, his legs looking a little unsteady at first. He smoothed back his hair and looked to Aaron with a slightly grateful expression. "Thanks, Agent Hotchner. I appreciate you taking the time to tell me all of this. Will you tell them I'll drop by tomorrow?"

"I'm sure they'd like that. And, Ethan? It's just Hotch here. I'm off the clock."

Ethan gave him a weak smile. "Thanks, Hotch." Turning, he nodded politely to Garcia before he headed toward his car. The two agents stood, watching as the man pulled his car out and drove away. Once he was out of sight, Garcia sighed. "Well, that just went well, didn't it?" she said.

Chuckling, Aaron stepped over to her and put his hand on the small of her back, leading her back into the house. "You sound like you need a smile, Garcia. Let me tell you how our hospital trip went…"

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><p><strong>So, you like? Hope so :) Next chapter I'm thinking of maybe switching it up to a totally different POV. A little…surprise. Hopefully I'll have it up in a day, two at the most. :) I'm about to go start writing it, so we'll see lol. Again, sorry this chap was so short!<strong>


	28. Monster

**This chapter is EXTREMELY short, but I couldn't make it long. It also is not necessary to read, so if you don't want to read this chapter, you do not have to. I just felt it needed to be written. This chapter is, yes, from Vincent's POV. It is creepy and dark and the product of not enough sleep and lots of coffee and an evening of watching Criminal Minds. Like I said, you don't have to read this. It's not extremely graphic, but it is to an extent, so I would understand if you don't want to read it. If you do, here it is. The next chapter should be up in 1-2 days :)**

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><p>In the silence of his cell, a monster lurked in the dark, hiding in plain sight. Those that passed it caught a glimpse of it in the eyes of the normal looking body it resided in. They saw the monster lurking in the depths of those ice cold eyes and they couldn't help but shiver and try to hurry past. A smile would curve those lips. Humor would leak into the eyes.<p>

On the outside, if one only gave him a casual glance, there was nothing to give away what lived inside of him. There were those that had known Vincent would have said he was a kind man, albeit a quiet one. A man of few words who looked too serious for his age, but he was kind to them. Like a chameleon, he put on a mask to the public. To the cretins he encountered on a daily basis.

But underneath the skin hid the monster that he was. It lived inside of him, controlling him, lurking in the dark until it had the freedom to roar to life. Freedom to roam free and fulfill its darkest desires.

In the dark, the monster closed his eyes and smiled.

They thought these four walls would hold him in. They thought putting him in solitary confinement would keep them all safe. Even the other prisoners had shown fear of Vincent. The guards didn't want to talk to him; didn't want to deal with him unless absolutely forced to. It amused him. The monster inside cackled.

So, to keep the prisoners safe and calm, to reassure the guards who were terrified to come in view of those hellish eyes, Vincent was stuck in solitary confinement. They had no idea that he preferred it in here. He stretched out, enjoying the darkness. Nothing could hide from him in the dark. This was his realm. This was his area. He held no fear of things that go bump in the night. That thought had him laughing lightly. _He_ was the thing that went bump in the night.

Somewhere out there, Vincent knew that there was one being in the world that would fear the dark. One soul that would look around a darkened room and quiver with the knowledge of what could come out at him. What, at one time, _had_ come out at him. The thought made Vincent lick his lips. Pleasant memories flooded his mind.

All the others he'd tried before had been nothing compared to the last one. They had just been tests for him. Learning processes on the road to the final truth. They had helped teach him and prepare him for the final conquest. And it had made it so much sweeter. If he hadn't learned his control by then, the boy would never have survived as long as he had. Or, maybe he would have. None before had had the stamina of his Boy. None had possessed that inner strength that never quite burned away, no matter what was done to him.

The boy had been perfect. The culmination of years' worth of work and preparation. He had been heaven and hell rolled into one. A perfect specimen, always there, always waiting for him. Always so eager to please. After the initial period of fighting, his boy had broken as all of them did. Yet he hadn't broken completely. There was still a spark there underneath that shell of compliance. No matter what Vincent did to his boy, that spark never faded, never went away.

It had spurred the monster to new heights. He had pushed further and further in his games, doing things he had never dreamed of doing. Playing 'games' that had killed previous toys. Yet somehow this boy survived. Somehow he kept breathing, kept going. That spark remained. Taunting him. Intriguing him.

A shudder ran down Vincent's frame. The pleasure he'd received with his boy had been immense. None had ever pleased him quite the way the boy did. That small, lithe body. A glance would suggest that the boy was fragile. One wrong move and he would shatter into a million little pieces. But appearances were deceiving. He had taken pain the others hadn't. He had not only survived it, but taken even more as time went on.

Then there were those huge, expressive eyes. So full of emotion even when boy tried to hide it. Vincent could see them in the dark now. He imagined how they were looking right at that moment. Was he lying somewhere alone in a room, dreaming of the same things? Was he curled on the floor, longing for his Master? They would be together again. Yes, they would. The monster sighed its approval at the thought. Soon, they would be together. Soon, no one would separate them again. The boy was his. He _owned_ him.

Others may think they had him now. They may think that he was theirs and that they would 'save' him. The boy would most likely play along with them, too. He might even be trying to regain his old life. But Vincent knew the boy was his. The boy knew who he belonged to. One word, one command, and the boy would come running. He was well trained. The things that had been done to break him, to bind him, wouldn't disappear overnight. If called, he would come. He wouldn't be able to resist.

He imagined the boy was with him. Those thin, long fingers running over him, over his skin. It had taken time to get to the point where the boy would touch him without cringing. Where he didn't even need orders on what to do. All he was told was to wait upstairs in the bedroom. Rarely did they go up there together. Upstairs was for Master. Downstairs was for boy.

But then some nights he would call the boy up there and Vincent would lie back on the bed underneath the gentle ministrations of his boy. There he relaxed, the monster slumbering in his chest, and he was simply a man. A man with his lover. Those were the times that Vincent thought about the love he felt for the boy. Was there any other word for this all-consuming sensation that existed inside of him for the young man?

He licked his lips and chuckled into the darkness again. Soon, he would have his boy back with him. He could run his fingers through that long hair. Feel that silky smooth skin underneath his hands. Watch as the boy chained himself to the cuffs dangling from the ceiling. It always turned him on to watch the boy lock himself into the cuffs. It reaffirmed to Vincent how badly the boy wanted it. Then came the best part of all. The blood.

He loved the sight of it, the feel of it, the smell of it. On his clothes, his skin, his hands. He loved to strike and watch it well up from the broken skin. To watch as it trickled down that pale white skin until it dripped onto the floor. He loved how it felt on his hands; warm and wet. When he bent the boy over, taking him on the floor, he would run his hands over his back and paint patterns into the skin, tracing with the boy's blood. Never did his boy look any more beautiful.

Then, those screams. Oh, God, his screams. There was no sweeter sound in Heaven or Earth. He groaned low in his throat. If he listened, he could just hear the sound in the distance, the echo of screams.

He needed to hear it again. He needed to touch and taste and see. It had been so long since he had touched the boy. So long since he'd had him. Since he'd felt that skin against his or heard those screams echo around the room.

These others thought they would take his boy away from him. They had no idea. The boy was _his_. He did not belong to them. They may have him at the moment, but he would come home. Anyone who stood between that would be taken out. The dark skinned agent—he couldn't even think his name without the monster in him snarling—would definitely have to go. He could not be allowed to live. First, Vincent would take care of him. Then…then he would go for the boy.

_Just a little while longer_ the monster in him soothed. _The plan is in place. Just a little longer and he'll be ours again. A little longer and we can have him in our grasp once more. Then, no one will separate us. No one will come between us ever again_.

In the silence of his cell, the man smiled a monster's smile. Soon, soon.


	29. The Other Side

**Here's a bit of fluff to break up the tension from the last chapter. Also, here's our little Spencer's first BIG step toward healing. I won't keep you, so read on!**

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><p>It was still dark out when Spencer woke up from his nightmare. There was no screaming, no tossing and turning, just a single jerk back to awareness. His eyes shot open to stare into the semi-darkened room around him. A lamp burned dully in the corner at Morgan's request. He had hooked it up after the first night and left it on each night since then. When Spencer had looked at him while he turned it on that first time, Morgan had simply said he didn't want to sleep in total dark. Spencer knew, though, that Morgan remembered how little Spencer liked the dark and that he'd figured it would be worse now. It was—Spencer absolutely hated being in the dark now. But he would have survived. Apparently, he didn't have to.<p>

Thinking about that gave Spencer the strength to push the nightmare back in his mind. It also helped that Morgan was wrapped around him and Clooney was sprawled out at their feet. Spencer lay there and simply marveled at the sensation of being in Morgan's arms. His best friend was spooned up behind him, the both of them lying on their sides, their bodies fitted perfectly together. Morgan's arm was across his side, resting against his stomach. A long ago memory of a conversation with Garcia came to mind and had Spencer smiling slightly. In this situation, according to that old conversation with Garcia, it would appear that Spencer was the 'little spoon' and Morgan was the 'big spoon'.

It felt so good and right to be here. Safe. Comforting. Wonderful. There was no panic at touching someone this way. There was no fear that he was going to be hurt. Spencer truly and honestly felt good lying in the curve of Morgan's body.

Here, with the dark still outside, in the small light of the lamp, Spencer let go of his shields. He didn't try to be ok. He didn't try to fight anything that he was feeling. There was no one to try to please, no one to be afraid of, nothing that he had to do but lie there. That freedom, that comfort, gave him room to think in ways he hadn't been able to so far.

It also brought to light a few facts he had been avoiding thinking about. Almost all of which revolved around the man that was spooning up behind him.

As more and more of his memories reordered themselves, more of Spencer's past life became clear. He could look back and think of moments with the team, with his family, that he hadn't been able to remember in so long. With the capabilities of his memory, it was almost like reliving those moments over again. That left him with a warm feeling inside. But the warm feeling from those memories was nothing in comparison to what he felt when he remembered moments with Morgan.

The more his memory became reorganized—because that's what it felt like they were doing. Going from a jumbled mess that made no sense to organized—the more that not just the memories became clear, but the emotions.

He could recall movie nights here at Morgan's house. The two of them sitting on Morgan's couch with a bucket of popcorn, laughing as they watched a comedy that no one but Morgan would have been able to convince Spencer to watch. And no one but Morgan would have had the patience with Spencer, who didn't understand some of the innuendos and jokes that were so obvious to most people.

Spencer could remember that it had been a ritual for them. Once a week, the day didn't matter, they would get together and watch movies one night and eat until they were stuffed. Then they'd pass out at whoevers house they were at, or whatever hotel room they were in. It had been such a ritual that they'd even done it at hotels while on cases.

There had been a bond between them that had been so much more than anything Spencer had ever experienced. He could recall, now, the feelings and emotions that had revolved around their friendship. Spencer had enough of his inner sense of self back in order. He remembered not just the moments, now, but the feelings too.

Morgan had been one of the first people that had really allowed Spencer to be himself. Oh, the others had let him. But Morgan had taken the time to pull him out of his shell and help him not only become comfortable around others, but with himself as well. With Morgan he had felt free to joke. He'd been free to argue without the fear that he would get the crap beat out of him, as so many people in school had done to him.

A smile broke out as one memory floated to the surface. The team had been on a case—he pushed aside the details of the case, not wanting to remember that part of things right now—and they'd been coming to the station from the hotel. Morgan had been picking on him, once again, for the amount of coffee he drank. Finally, Spencer had grown fed up with the older man.

"_No, no. I don't want to hear it." Spencer snapped out when Morgan opened his mouth again. The younger man had an obstinate look on his face. The others around them were chuckling as Morgan tried to protest. Spencer cut him off quickly. "No! I'm mad at you!"_

"_You're mad at me?" Morgan exclaimed. "Why?"_

"_Yes, I'm mad. I'm not talking to you!"_

"_What?"_

"_I'm not talking to you for ten whole seconds. That's it. No talking."_

_Morgan laughed right in his face while holding the door open for them to walk into the conference room they were using. "You're not talking to me for ten seconds? Are you kidding me? You're giving me the silent treatment?"_

_In response, Spencer just held up a finger, then another, then another, counting off the seconds. Around them, the team was laughing, watching Spencer count and Morgan roll his eyes._

It was a good memory. Spencer remembered that, when he'd finished his ten seconds, Morgan had ruffled his hair. The two had shared a smile and then they'd gone back to work. There were tons of little moments like that between them that Spencer had never shared with another human being before. Moments where Spencer had been free to be himself without fear of recrimination.

He remembered how many times Morgan had been there for him. This big, alpha male, the type of person that had terrorized Spencer's childhood, had ended up being the best friend he'd ever had. A person who understood him in ways no one else did.

When Spencer had hit rock bottom after the whole Tobias incident, it had been Morgan who had been there for him. Morgan who had fought with him when he was growing surlier and surlier with his friends. Morgan who had finally come to his house and demanded that they talk. The memory flashed to the front of Spencer's mind.

"_I swear, Spencer Reid, if you don't open this damn door right now, I'm kicking it in!" Morgan bellowed from the hallway. The tone to his voice left no doubt that he was telling the truth. He would do it if he felt like he had to. Spencer shuddered and ran a trembling hand over his face. He pulled his other hand up, staring at it as it shook. He didn't want Morgan here right now. Didn't want him to see him like this. To see his home like this._

_But there was no choice, now. If he didn't let him in, Morgan would bust his way in. So Spencer moved forward and flipped the lock on the door. That was all he could bring himself to do, though. He couldn't bring himself to turn the knob and let him in. That was just too much. Instead, he stepped back, his arms coming around his waist to hold on as another shiver ran through him, shaking his small frame. Oh, he needed a fix right now. Just one. Anything, to take away this feeling. Anything to make the craving stop!_

_His door opened and Morgan strolled in as if he hadn't been shouting only moments before. His eyes seemed to scan the apartment and Spencer in one swoop. The younger man watched as Morgan turned, shutting the door and locking it. Then he turned back and strode straight over to Spencer. One of his arms came around the trembling man, moving him toward the couch. Only when Spencer was sitting down did Morgan speak._

_Instead of asking question, though, Morgan squatted down in front of Spencer and started to speak. "You've messed up a lot lately, kid. I don't know what drugs you're on but I can make a guess that it's the shit Tobias gave you while you were with him. You've let it control you and slowly ruin your life. Because of it, you've pushed all of us as far away as you could. Even Gideon."_

_Spencer tried to open his mouth. He tried to say something, anything, but Morgan moved his hands to rest them on Spencer's knees and just kept talking._

"_I'm not going to judge you for finding the escape you did because I can't ever know what it is you lived through. But I am going to ask you, right here and right now, are you going to let this keep controlling your life? Are you going to let this take you down until there's nothing and no one left? Or are you willing to fight this and try to come out the other side?"_

_Another tremble shook Spencer's body. He held his hands out in front of them, staring at them as they shook. "I told Hotch I'm taking a week off. The personal leave has already been processed." He whispered. Even his words trembled! "I haven't had a fix in around twelve hours." And he wanted one almost as bad as he wanted air to breathe. "I know I've messed up. I know I've hurt people. I can't change that. But I'm trying to change this. I'm trying to fix it."_

"_That's all I needed to know, Reid." Morgan murmured. His hands rose up, taking hold of Spencer's, holding them tightly. "I'll call Hotch in the morning and have him process a week of personal days for me, too."_

"_What?"_

"_You think you're going to go through this alone, pretty boy?" A corner of Morgan's mouth quirked. His eyes, though, were full of comfort and pride. "I'll be here every step of the way. You're not alone anymore, Reid. I'm not going anywhere."_

And he hadn't. Morgan had stayed there all through the detox. Even when Spencer had been so sick he hadn't even been able to pick himself up off the bathroom floor, Morgan had stayed. He'd even stayed when Spencer had grown angry at his help, screaming and throwing things, demanding that Morgan get the hell out. Telling him he hated him. Still, Morgan stuck with him.

Without him, Spencer knew there was a good chance he would have broken during that week. That he most likely would've gone out and gotten high and slid back down that slippery slope. But he had made it. He'd made it and been stronger for it. All with the help of one person that had started as just a co-worker, grew into a friend, then a best friend, and then the start of something more.

It was that something more that was in Spencer's mind this morning. It was what kept coming back into his mind. He and Morgan had been so close to admitting feelings to one another. Spencer had known in his heart what he'd felt. He had realized that friendship had slowly morphed into love. Though it had taken him a while to admit it to himself, he had. And he had seen the signs of it in Morgan too. There were issues that Morgan had that Spencer knew would make it hard for the older man to admit to their feelings, but he'd been confident that they could work through it. They would work through it. Then, everything had been taken from them.

The feelings were still there, though. They'd never gone away. Only been buried. But those feelings had stuck with him the longest. Even as he'd locked the others away, as he slowly forgot everything, the memories of Morgan had lasted the longest. Once the memories had been gone, the feelings had still been there. Late at night, while he was bleeding on that cold floor, he had whispered Morgan's name over and over, even when he no longer remembered the face to go with the name.

Those feelings filled the most broken parts of him, warming the parts that had been cold for so long, putting back together some of the pieces that had been broken. Here, in this bed, with Morgan totally wrapped around him, Spencer thought to himself for the first time since he'd come home that he might actually be able to heal from this.

Not on his own, no. This wasn't something he would be able to do on his own. But maybe life didn't have to be solely about existing. Maybe it didn't have to be about just making it through the next second, the next minute, hour, day, week. Maybe he could actually look into the future and find something more waiting for him there than death. Than pain.

Would things be easy? No. Would there be days he might want to give up? Most definitely. But could he continue to shut away the good just because of the fear of pain? _Look at what you've survived so far!_ His brain told him. _Look at what you've been through. You have gone to hell and yet you're coming out on the other side. You've survived things that no one should ever have to go through. Yet you're still here! Yes, you're terrified. Yes, you're scarred by this, inside and out. No, it will not be an easy healing process. But you're still here!_

That was what it boiled down to. Scared or not, he was still here and he was still alive. In that moment, Spencer remembered Morgan's words from that day in his apartment._ "I'm not going to judge you for finding the escape you did because I can't ever know what it is you lived through. But I am going to ask you, right here and right now, are you going to let this keep controlling your life? Are you going to let this take you down until there's nothing and no one left? Or are you willing to fight this and try to come out the other side?"_

It was as true now as it was then. So, what was he going to do? Was he going to let this control him? Was he going to let it take him down and break him? Pretty stupid, to survive what he had survived and then end up being destroyed by his own mind. Or was he going to fight this and try to come out the other side?

The arm around his waist tightened slightly and pulled him just a little closer. He heard Morgan's voice murmur something unintelligible in his ear before the older man drifted once more. In that second, Spencer knew he had his answer.

He was not going to lie down and die. He was not going to let Vincent control his life or destroy him anymore. He was going to fight. Not only for himself, but for the man here by his side. Not just for his life, but for the one they could have together.

Spencer shifted in the dark and moved his hand to cover Morgan's, relishing in the contact. When Morgan's fingers moved, lacing together with his, Spencer felt his lips curve even as silent tears slid from his eyes. The road ahead was still long and it was going to be rough, but he knew in that moment that so long as he had Morgan in his life, he could make it out the other side of this nightmare once and for all.

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><p><strong>So, quick question. The little memory that Spencer had of his coming off drugs and any other memories, do you guys want me to write those as shorts or as one shots? I was thinking there could be a seven shot for the withdrawal one, but it would only be friendship, seeing as it's before Time, lol. What do you think? And, as always, let me know what you think of this chapter!<strong>


	30. This Wasn't Meant For Me

**I had a hard time writing this chapter for some reason, which is why it took me a while to get it out. My apologies for that. The next chapter should take maybe a day to go up. I've already started it and I'm hoping to get it mostly done before I head to bed lol. Well, like I said, this chapter was hard for me so if it doesn't seem as good as my others, I'm really really sorry. I personally like the ending, but I'm unsure if the rest of it seems right. Anyways I hope you enjoy it and please, keep up the wonderful reviews! Each time I start to get a little down about whether or not I'm doing ok on this, your wonderful reviews bring me back up. You guys are the greatest! And wow, can't believe we're at chapter 30. I had no idea this story would get so big or be so popular.**

**I'm done preening now, I promise, lol. Here's chapter thirty! Enjoy and please, R&R!**

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><p>After spending a few hours simply lying in Morgan's arms, Spencer finally decided that it was time to get up. He quietly slipped out of bed, smiling a little when Clooney followed him, and then he grabbed a pair of pajama pants and headed down to the bathroom. After doing his morning rituals and changing into the clean pajama pants, Spencer sighed and stretched as he walked out toward the kitchen.<p>

He'd had quite a conversation with himself as he'd lain in bed with Morgan. Everything seemed just a little brighter this morning. _Things aren't exactly perfect yet_ he thought as he moved toward the coffee pot. _But it's a hell of a start_. That was the best way to describe it, too. A start. He knew that he wasn't suddenly better. He wasn't going to just be all right now. But he was on his way.

Absentmindedly he began to make coffee as his thoughts continued to roam. Just saying that he was going to try to heal wasn't going to be enough to actually make him heal. He was going to have to do things that absolutely terrified him. The biggest one being—counseling. He needed to see a professional. That was one of the first and biggest steps he was going to have to take. This was not something he could heal from on his own, or by spending a week locked in his home with Morgan like he had to come off drugs. This was going to take so much more.

_Look at is as you would have while you were an agent. What would you have recommended for a victim in your shoes?_ He wondered.

Counseling, first and foremost. Find a good support system. Don't shy away from those that love you and want to help you. Accept the medication the doctors prescribe for you. That was going to be a difficult one. He didn't want to spend his life taking medication. Most of all, he didn't want to end up committed somewhere.

That thought made him freeze for just a second. He forced himself to relax. Morgan wouldn't let them do that to him. He wouldn't let them lock him away somewhere. Right?

Right?

Of course not. Spencer forced himself to take a deep breath and relax. He pressed the button to turn the coffee maker on and stepped back. He was letting his fears get control again. There was absolutely no way Morgan would let them commit Spencer. He wasn't a danger to those around him or to himself. Nothing he had done would suggest that. Therefore, outpatient treatment was the most viable option. He needed to be in the world to learn how to live in the world again. There were so many things he had forgotten how to do.

For a second his mind cleared. Spencer looked at the coffee pot with surprise. He had just moved easily through Morgan's kitchen, not even faltering, and made a pot of coffee in a machine that, yesterday, he hadn't remembered how to use. Apparently not thinking about it was the way to bring those memories back to the surface. While his mind had been distracted, he had done something that had once been an automatic habit for him.

Not only that, but he had made coffee in Morgan's kitchen _without asking permission_. He hadn't asked to touch anything. He hadn't been told to do it. No, he had come out, on his own, and made a full pot while Morgan was sleeping. The significance of that might have been lost on others, but to Spencer, it was huge. This was a gigantic step forward for him. Days ago he wouldn't have dared to touch anything in here. He wouldn't even have dared to get up out of bed before Morgan had. Now…look at him. It was the little things that counted right now. This may be little to others, but it was important to Spencer.

"Well, look at you."

The warmth in those words made Spencer's heart lift a little bit. He knew his eyes were smiling, even if it didn't quite make it to his lips, as he turned to look at Morgan. The older man was standing by the dining room table, dressed in a simple pair of black sweats and a white t-shirt, and wearing a sleepy smile. Morgan stepped away from the table and walked over to lean against the counter beside Spencer. There was something in his eyes that took Spencer a moment to recognize. Was that…pride?

"Look at you." Morgan murmured again. He brought a hand up and tucked a strand of hair behind Spencer's ear. "Here I thought you'd have a hard morning after yesterday and instead I find you in my kitchen, making coffee. On your own."

The way he said that told Spencer that Morgan understood the significance of this. He knew how big this little thing was. The smile he was feeling inside actually curved his lips just the tiniest bit as he looked at Morgan. "I did some soul searching last night." He admitted quietly. The quiet words seemed to suit the comfortable scene in the kitchen.

Morgan cocked his head to the side a little. "Discover anything interesting?"

"I, I remembered something. Something you said to me a long time ago that seemed to, to suit the current moment." Spencer took a deep breath and reminded himself that this was something he wanted to do. He had to heal from this. He had to! There was no way he could live the rest of his life this way. But admitting it out loud to Morgan was a huge step for him; it would make it all real. There would be no going back once he voiced his resolve. For now, the idea was simply in his head, warming him with the thought that maybe he would survive this. As soon as he said it to Morgan than he was essentially committing himself to this.

It was the support and pride in Morgan's eyes that gave Spencer the strength to do this. "Do you remember when I was detoxing and you came to my apartment?" he asked. When Morgan nodded, Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat and continued. "You asked me '_Are you going to let this take you down until there's nothing and no one left? Or are you willing to fight this and try to come out the other side_?' Last night I decided it's not enough to just leave the basement. I need to fight for my freedom."

The last thing Spencer had expected as a reaction to his words was tears. But there was no mistaking the sheen of moisture that built in Morgan's eyes. Not a single tear fell, but they were there. Morgan brought a hand up and ran it over Spencer's cheek. "I am so proud of you, pretty boy." He whispered.

"I, I know it's easier said than done." Spencer stammered out. "I know I've got a long way to go. I'm pretty messed up. But I, I mean I just, I want to try. I don't know what'll happen or how I'll do or if I'll break later on. But I can't just keep trying to exist anymore. I can't live that way." He screwed up the last of his courage and said the hardest part of all. "I think it's time for me to start seeing a professional as well."

To his utter shock, a single tear actually slid down Morgan's cheek this time. The older man moved forward and brought Spencer into a hug. He moved slow enough that there would have been plenty of time for Spencer to step away, something he always did and that Spencer appreciated, but the younger man hugged him back.

Their embrace was suddenly cut off when Clooney shoved his head between them, his leash dangling from his mouth. Morgan laughed and Spencer smiled.

There was no time like the present to start changing his life, Spencer thought to himself. He looked at Morgan and then back down at Clooney. "Why don't I go throw on a shirt and we take him for a walk?" he suggested. Fear almost instantly tried to work its way in, but Spencer fought against it. _You'll be with Morgan, who'll keep you safe. Clooney will be there too and he's already proved he'll keep you safe. Nothing will happen to you if you walk down the road and through the park._

Morgan smiled and nodded. "I'll put coffee in my insulated cups while you get ready."

CMCM

Ten minutes later the two were stepping off the sidewalk and crossing the street into the park. There weren't that many people there, to which Spencer was grateful. A few joggers, some toddlers and their mothers at the playground, and an elderly couple sitting at one of the picnic tables playing chess together. All in all it was a peaceful morning.

The two men walked with their coffee cups in hand, Clooney walking happily in front of them. Morgan paid no attention to the strange looks they got from joggers who went past them. Spencer noticed, though it took him a short bit to figure out exactly why they were getting odd looks. It was when one of the joggers not only looked at them, but gave them a head to toe look, that Spencer finally figured out what was going on. A small sound of surprise slid past his lips.

Morgan turned to look at him as they paused for Clooney to sniff one of the bushes. "Something startle you?"

"No, no." Spencer rushed to reassure him. He looked at Morgan and felt the urge to smile again. In the past few hours he had smiled and felt the urge to smile more than he had in _years_. "I just, I saw how people were looking at us and I was confused. I think I figured it out."

"Oh yeah? And what conclusions have you come to, kid?"

They started moving forward again, their arms brushing together occasionally. Spencer looked at Clooney, who was busy sniffing the ground as if he was following a trail. "Well, for starters, we are in our pajamas." Spencer pointed out. He spared a glance to look them both over. Morgan, in his black sweats and a gray hoodie and flip flops. Spencer, in red plaid pajama pants and a black t-shirt and flip flops. He looked back up at his friend, enjoying the way Morgan's eyes sparkled with humor. "That alone would earn us interesting looks. Add on that we're drinking from matching cups while walking your dog and the most likely conclusion that people have come to is that we're a couple. This would confuse any of these people that are regulars because most likely they've seen you walk Clooney here on your own plenty of times."

"Good to see your profiling skills haven't gone away." Morgan teased him. He let their shoulders bump together.

Spencer turned to face forward again and sipped off his coffee. This was the most normal morning he felt like he'd had in such a long time. To just walk the dog with his best friend while drinking coffee. It seemed such a normal, human thing to do. He wasn't having a panic attack being around people, though he did tense up whenever a jogger passed them by. But Morgan always touched his arm to warn him that one was coming up behind them. Spencer already knew—he couldn't prevent himself from scanning the scene around him for danger almost constantly—but he appreciated the gesture.

It wasn't too loud here, which was a blessing. There was no real traffic on the nearby streets yet so there wasn't the noise of cars to bother him. That was something that he couldn't help but wonder how long it would last. Being sensitive to noise was one thing, he had been that way before, but not this sensitive. If he ever wanted a normal life back than he was going to have to learn a way to adjust to it. Maybe that would be something that came with time. _Baby steps_ he told himself. _Just because you're feeling good this morning doesn't mean that it's time to take on everything. Just take baby steps. This right here is huge. Don't press your luck too far today_.

"Do you think this Ethan individual is going to be upset with me for yesterday?" Spencer asked suddenly. Whoever this Ethan guy was, Spencer hadn't really allowed himself to think about him yet. A man who claimed they'd been the best of friends and yet he had no recollection of hm. He was an unknown in Spencer's world right now and the unknown was frightening. He had no idea how the man would react to anything. That made him dangerous.

Morgan took a drink from his coffee before he answered. "I doubt he will be. I imagine Hotch probably explained to him a little better about the whole situation. Most likely he'll be upset, but not with you."

"If not because of something I did, then why would he be upset?"

"He'd be upset for you, kid." Again they paused so that Clooney could sniff a tree. They were in the more forested part of the park by now, giving them a slight amount of privacy. "From what I know about him, he was a good friend of yours from childhood. Someone who obviously still cares about you. It's going to hurt him to know what you went through just like it does the rest of us."

Spencer chewed on his lip while he thought about that. "I know it hurt him that I don't remember him."

"He'll adjust. It's not something you can control. You have a lot of memories in that brain of yours. Give it all time to come back on its own."

The advice was sound, Spencer knew that. But he hated this feeling of not remembering an entire person. His eyes drifted around, his hyper vigilance forcing him to scan yet again for any threat. "It just doesn't seem…right. To remember others in my life but not to remember someone I've supposedly known for so long. Someone who, by all indicators, I was close with. I don't like that feeling."

The hairs on the back of Spencer's neck seemed to stand up for a single instant. Though he had no idea why, he felt nervous suddenly. Without thinking he reached out and took hold of Morgan's arm, since both of Morgan's hands were full. He looked around him, trying to figure out what had made that sense of unease. Why had everything gone from peaceful to tense in just a short second?

"Spencer? Is everything ok?"

Morgan's voice was almost a buzz in Spencer's ear. There was something wrong, he knew it. But what it was he had no idea. What had set off the feeling? He'd been talking about Ethan and looking around the park, just as he'd done so many times already, and that feeling had suddenly come on.

When Spencer's eyes drifted over the road nearby, that feeling of unease intensified. His eyes locked onto a car; one that, in a single blinding instant, he knew he'd seen before. The driver's window was down, but he didn't need that quick glimpse at the face inside to know who it was or to know there was trouble. Panic exploded in him and instinct took over. Without even thinking about it, Spencer twisted his body and pulled Morgan's arm, snapping out "Down!" before he'd realized what he was doing.

There was a loud sound that cut through the morning silence right as the two started to drop. Pain, white hot and blinding, ripped its way across Spencer's right arm. Yet he didn't pause to think about it as he hit the ground with Morgan half underneath him. He raised his head, looking to where the car had been only to watch as it sped away, flying off in the opposite direction of them.

Morgan's hands were on him, trying to pull him close while Clooney braced himself near them, snarling at the area around them. Screams echoed over by the playground. Spencer paid no attention to it all. He let Morgan roll him over so that he was lying on his back. The pain in his arm grew a little at the movement but that was far from being his biggest concern.

"Spencer!" Morgan's voice was panicked, his hands frantic as they traveled over Spencer's body in search of a wound. It didn't take him long to find it on his arm. Spencer brain seemed to be frazzled; all he could feel was the fire that settled there. He could only watch as Morgan put his hand over the wound. Then the pain intensified and Spencer had to close his eyes against the waves that threatened to suck him under. He had to resist moving away from Morgan's hand. Applying pressure was important. It needed to be done. But, dammit, it _hurt_!

When his eyes cleared a little he saw that Morgan was crouching over him now, his free hand holding his cell phone to his ear. "Yes, I need an ambulance." Morgan was saying. None of that was important right then. Spencer closed his eyes again as the last few minutes played over in his mind. There was something important in them. Not just that he'd recognized the man, but something else. Something he had to say. He heard Morgan hang up the phone and then make another call. Through the haze of pain, Spencer heard Morgan's voice saying "Hotch…" Then Spencer lost his focus for a minute as his arm gave a nasty throb.

Pain raced through him. He felt the pressure on his arm increase as Morgan added his other hand over the wound. "Spencer, come on sugar, look at me. Come on now." Morgan was pleading.

Spencer swallowed and tried to think around the agony. This was important. "Morgan."

"That's right, pretty boy. I'm right here. Help is on the way, ok? I need you to stick with me. Does anything else hurt?"

It took effort for Spencer to push the pain aside. He called up everything he had ever learned from his Master about dealing with pain and he put it to use now, forcing his brain to think as clearly as he could. He brought his free hand up, laying it on Morgan's arm. "Not me." He murmured.

He looked up to see Morgan's fearful eyes lock on his. "What? What's not you? Spencer, come on now, stay with me."

Stay with him? He was right here. The pain was becoming more manageable now. He'd had so much worse than this. "Morgan, listen to me." His arm throbbed and burned and so many other adjectives, but he couldn't focus on that right now. "Be careful. This wasn't meant for me."

Shock lit Morgan's face. "What?"

"We twisted when we went down." Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Spencer tried to breathe around the pain. He heard sirens in the distance. "This wasn't meant for me. If we hadn't moved, it would have hit your heart." He locked eyes with Morgan, trying to express how serious he was. "This was meant for you." He tightened his grip on Morgan's arm. "You're in danger. Someone was trying to kill you."

The words seemed to echo around them as the sirens grew closer. The two men locked eyes, staring as blood pooled on the ground underneath Spencer. The both of them were wondering the same thing. What the hell was going on?


	31. I Will Not Leave

**Now, I'm not a doctor, so any medical facts I have in here, I googled, ok? LoL. So if they're not accurate, bear with me please or ignore it! I apologize for any medical inaccuracies, but you'd be surprised how little information I found on what I needed. Again, my apologies. **

**I know some of you probably predicted the end of this chapter :P But I still hope you all like the way this is going! Please, remember to R&R! I'm really, really enjoying writing this and all of your reviews inspire me to keep going. You guys are so great! I'm sorry I haven't taken the time to personally reply lately—when I get on the computer I tend to write, then post, as quickly as possible and then go back to writing. With a four year old kid and a four year old dog, I don't get to write or post until my son is in bed and so I try to get in as much writing as possible. But I promise to try and reply to reviews soon. Thank you all! Now, enjoy :)**

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><p>Because he was so caught up in keeping pressure on Spencer's wound, Morgan didn't even think about how Spencer would react when the paramedics came running up. His brain was locked on the blood that was pooling around his best friend; on trying to keep as much of that blood inside as possible. It clouded his thinking enough that the paramedics reached them and one touched Spencer. That was all it took to bring everything crashing back into Morgan's brain.<p>

The younger man screamed, his eyes going wide and distant, losing any look of coherency in them at all. Panic and instinct took over. Even as he screamed, Spencer was jerking away, trying to get as far from the touch as possible, paying no mind to the injury on his body. It pained Morgan to realize that Spencer probably barely noticed that he was injured; he had been through so much worse.

"Spencer!" Morgan called loudly. He needed to break through the panic as quickly as he could. The last time Spencer had been cornered by medics, he had lashed out and injured them. Morgan clearly remembered the video that had showed how Spencer had reacted when he'd been rescued. They did not need a repeat performance.

At the same time that Morgan moved, his hands still gripping Spencer's arm, Clooney darted in the small space between them and the medics and started to snarl. Not just growl, but snarl. He was standing protectively in front of Spencer, daring anyone to get past him. The scene was almost instant chaos. One paramedic had scrambled backwards at the scream and then more so once Clooney moved in. The other paramedic was still standing, one hand on his partner's shoulder.

Damn. Both of them were men. That was going to make this more difficult. Morgan knew he had to deal with that in a moment, though. First priority was calming Spencer and making sure Clooney bit no one. With one deep breath, Morgan forced himself to treat this like it was a job. Push emotion down and deal with the situation in the best way possible. Emotions could be dealt with later.

"Clooney!" he barked out as he gave a sharp tug to the leash. "Down! Now!" Even as protective as Clooney was of Spencer, he knew the sound of command in his master's voice and stepped off to the side where Morgan led him, sitting down. But he did sit directly by Spencer's head. For the moment, Morgan let that be. He turned his eyes to Spencer. "Pretty boy, look at me now. Look at me, not them, ok?"

When those wide eyes turned to him, Morgan saw that his friend wasn't all the way there. He wasn't going to stay calm for this. There was no possible way he would mellow enough to be touched by a group of paramedics. How were they going to handle this? He tried to reason with him though he knew it wasn't going to work. "Listen to me, kid. You've been shot and you need medical help that I can't give. You need to let these guys help you, ok?"

"Please, no!" Spencer whispered brokenly. "Please, I'll be fine, I swear. I won't complain! I'll clean it up, I will, I swear. Just please, don't make me go with them. Don't let them touch me, please. Please! I'll do anything."

Just like that, Spencer's newfound bravery was gone. Not that Morgan could blame him. The kid had been prepared to take baby steps toward recovery. This was a humongous jump forward and one that Morgan knew it wasn't fair to ask Spencer to take. His heart thudded in his chest as he watched more and more blood come from Spencer's arms; as he looked at those eyes so full of fear and pain and just begging him to save him.

"Spencer, I swear to you, I'll stay with you the entire time, ok?" Morgan tried to assure him firmly and quickly. He needed to be treated. "I won't let them do anything they're not supposed to."

Spencer wasn't having any of it. "I'll be fine, Morgan, really. Just give me some bandages and I'll take care of it. I know how, I really do! I promise, I won't be any bother. Please, just please, don't let them take me away. Don't let them touch me. I don't want them touching me."

Emotion clogged Morgan's throat. He couldn't stop himself from bending down and pressing their foreheads together for just a single instant. His hands were still tightly clamped over the wound. "You were shot, sugar." He said hoarsely. "I know this is scary and I know you don't want anyone touching you, but I can't just let you go home like nothing happened. What if you got sick from this? What if there are fragments in there or something? Or an infection set it? I couldn't handle it if something more happened to you. Especially if you were right and this was meant for me. Please, Spencer, I'm doing something I never do. I'm begging you. Let them treat you."

For a long moment the two stared into each other's eyes. Morgan could have wept with relief when he saw Spencer's eyes start to clear a little. "You'll…you'll protect me?" His voice was small, but it was steadier than it had been.

Morgan let out a ragged breath. "With my life. No one will hurt you."

"You'll only let them treat my arm? Nothing else unless it's life threatening?"

"I promise."

Again, a pause. Then Spencer turned his head to look at the paramedics. His eyes were still clear, but the panic sat in the back of them as if it was simply waiting to rear back up. "Sedate me." He told them. When they looked from Spencer to Morgan and back again, Spencer repeated himself. "I can't promise to stay calm and not to panic. Morgan can explain it to the doctors, they'll need to know why, but if any of you plan on touching me I suggest you sedate me. Now."

Morgan looked up and nodded at them. He took a deep breath and held out his hand. "Give me the syringe and I'll sedate him. It'll be easier this way."

Within moments he was holding the needle near Spencer's skin, trying to stop his hands from shaking. The younger man looked at him, giving him a nod. "Do it, Morgan. I trust you." Those three little words that were so important. Holding on to them, Morgan slid the needle in and released the fluids into his best friend's system.

As Spencer's eyes rolled up before sliding closed, the two paramedics rushed forward, taking Morgan's place at Spencer's arm.

That was when Morgan realized that he needed to figure out something to do with Clooney so he could ride to the hospital with Spencer. Almost as if someone was answering his prayers, Aaron and Dave came rushing forward with Emily not too far behind them. Morgan moved away from Spencer enough to allow the paramedics to get him on the gurney. He took advantage of the time to hand over Clooney's leash to the first available hand; Dave's.

"Spencer and I were walking Clooney and talking when he suddenly went still." Morgan started reporting immediately. He had limited time. "He was looking at the street and I'd just turned to try and see what he saw when he was shouting and yanking me to the ground. There was the sound of a gunshot. After I called the ambulance and you, Hotch, I put pressure on and waited. But Spencer was lucid enough to tell me that the shot wasn't meant for him. He says it was meant for me."

The gurney was lifted and they started to wheel it over the grass to the street. Morgan immediately moved to follow them, cutting off his own words. "My house is unlocked!" he called back. "Just put Clooney in. We'll see you at the hospital!"

When he reached the back of the ambulance, one of the medics tried to stop him. "Ride with your friends." He suggested kindly. "He won't wake enough to know you aren't here. We need all the room we can get."

"Like hell I will." Morgan growled. He pulled out his badge and flashed it at the medic before skirting around him and climbing in the ambulance. "I'm Agent Morgan and this is Dr. Reid. We both work for the FBI and he was just shot at. Until we know there's no threat, he goes nowhere alone." Not that it would have mattered. Nothing would have separated him from the kid now; he'd made a promise. And if there's one thing Morgan was known for, it was moving heaven and earth to keep his promises.

The two medics exchanged a quick look before deciding that there was no way they were going to be able to get this man out of the ambulance. They wasted no more time. Climbing inside, they went to work on his arm as the ambulance sped off down the road. Morgan held Spencer's free hand between his, watching his face. The only time he looked up was to warn them. "He's been through a traumatic experience and doesn't react well to men, as you saw. If there's any way he could be given a female doctor, I promise he'll be calmer. Don't count on the sedation to hold him under for long. His panic makes him burn it off a lot quicker. The last time he was corned and needed sedation, he injured five people before they managed to sedate him." Then he turned his attention back to Spencer. No matter what anyone said, he wasn't leaving him alone, no matter what.

* * *

><p>"I've said it once and I'll say it a thousand more times." Morgan hissed to the doctor standing in front of him. His eyes passed over every single doctor and nurse in the room, searing them with his glare. "I. Will. Not. Leave." The body cradled against his gave yet another tremble that only served to firm Morgan's resolve. There was no way in hell they were going to make him leave this room.<p>

He'd had to fight from the instant they came in the hospital just to be able to stay with Spencer. By the time the ambulance had arrived, Spencer had burned off most of the sedative and had started to regain consciousness. Because the doctor hadn't had time to waste arguing with Morgan, who had been gripping Spencer's good hand tightly and refusing to leave him, they'd allowed Morgan to stay there while they'd numbed Spencer's arm and inspected the wound. Once they were sure there were no fragments—the bullet had only tore through the meaty part of his arm. It was just a simple flesh would that needed stitched closed—they'd cleaned and stitched Spencer's arm.

Why he had to leave now that they were done with the stitches, Morgan had no idea, but he wasn't going for it. And Spencer, who was now fully awake, wasn't going for it either. He had sat up and latched on to Morgan the instant that the doctors had started demanding the older man leave the room.

"We need to speak with Agent Reid and examine him." The doctor, a woman named Tawny Dillon, glared right back at him. "As soon as it's been determined that he's in good condition, we'll move him to a room for observation and you'll be allowed back inside. But for now, we need you to leave."

"And I'm telling you, I won't leave him. Not for one minute. There is no viable reason that I need to leave him alone with you now that the procedure is done. Any examination that's necessary can be done in my presence. After that, if it's necessary, he'll stay for observation and I'll stay with him. I am not leaving him alone, Doctor."

The woman turned to a nearby nurse. "Go get security." She ordered. Then her eyes flashed back to Morgan. "I suggest that you step away now and move to the waiting room before I have security remove you and have you banned from the entire hospital. Now, Agent Morgan."

When Morgan opened his mouth to start yelling again, he felt Spencer's hand, which was currently fisted into his shirt, tug lightly to get his attention. Instantly he turned his eyes down to the young man who he was holding protectively in the shelter of his arms. "What is it, Spencer?" he murmured to him, his voice softer and kinder.

Spencer's wide eyes drifted up toward his face, no other part of him moving. "They can see my injuries." The young man whispered in a shaky voice. "They see how we are together and they want to check me over and talk to me and make sure you aren't an abusive boyfriend."

Those words had Morgan's face going slack with shock for a moment. "They think I'm hitting you?"

"Hospital policy requires they investigate potential abuse situations. It's standard protocol to have you leave if you're a suspect. You know victims won't answer honestly in front of their abusers. We did it all the time when we questioned witnesses, Morgan."

The logic of it didn't diminish the rage Morgan was feeling. His now furious eyes moved back to the doctor. "I have never and will never physically hurt Spencer." In contrast to his earlier yelling, Morgan's voice was now low, an almost lethal sound to it. He was working as hard as he could to contain his fury. "Not a one of these marks was caused by me."

"I'm sorry, Agent Morgan, but we can't simply take your word for that." Doctor Tawny said calmly. "I need you to leave. Now. Security will be here any moment and you will be forcibly removed if it proves necessary."

"Now listen here…!"

Again Spencer cut Morgan off. This time he didn't pull on his shirt, but pushed up a little, moving so that he was still in Morgan's arms but he could look over at the doctor. His voice was still shaky when he spoke, but there was a small amount of determination there. "I was taken captive two years ago." Spencer said into the now silent room. No one paid any attention to the security guard that stepped in. The doctor and nurses were staring in surprise at the young man. "For two years I was held in the basement of a house where I was beaten within an inch of my life on an almost daily basis. I was beaten in ways you can't ever begin to imagine and was sexually assaulted numerous times. Recently I was found and rescued and have been staying with Agent Morgan since then. I assure you, not a single wound on my body was caused by Morgan. And if you make him leave me, I will get up and walk right out the door with him."

That speech was the most backbone that Morgan had seen Spencer have. With each word the kid had gained a little more strength to his voice until, at the end, he had sounded calm and firm. There was no doubt that he would do exactly as he said.

Sure that he had made an impact on them, Spencer settled back into Morgan's arms. "I'll go to a room for observation, because I know your concern is blood loss and potential infection. My body has a weaker immune system at the moment due to plenty of reasons." For a second Spencer quavered before he seemed to find his voice again. "My blood loss was not severe. Class I Hemorrhage involves up to 15% of blood volume. There is typically no change in vital signs and fluid resuscitation is not usually necessary. There is no way I lost more than 15% blood volume. Therefore the only main concern is my lowered immune system and potential infection. So I'll stay here as you wish. But I'm only staying one night. One. And no one makes Morgan leave."

Though the others were now looking at Spencer with expressions that varied from surprise to consternation, Morgan felt pride swell up in him. Hearing Spencer ramble his facts like that was one of the most reassuring things for Morgan at the moment. It showed the Spencer that he knew and loved, buried underneath everything. To hear Spencer saying those words showed him not only that Spencer was still Spencer, but that he was gaining some of himself back. He was rambling, not just in front of Morgan, but in front of strangers. It was wonderful!

The door burst open, startling the entire room and making Spencer jump so badly he was almost dislodged from Morgan's arms. The older agent held him closer and looked up to see who on earth was barging in that way. His entire body froze when he saw Aaron standing there. The look on his face told Morgan that whatever he had to say wasn't going to be good.

His boss didn't hesitate to move over toward the bed. He glanced at the room and then over to the security guard. "Is there a problem here?" He demanded sternly.

Spencer was the one to answer. "They're trying to make Morgan leave." He whispered.

If anything, Aaron's face grew harder. Something was going on. The unit chief leveled his glare at the room in general. "Agent Morgan stays with Dr. Reid at all times. There is to be no time that Dr. Reid is left outside of Agent Morgan's supervision." Then his eyes turned back to his two agents, his friends. "I just got off the phone with Strauss."

"Strauss?" Morgan asked, raising one eyebrow. _Shit. Something big is going on. Huge. What the hell happened now?_ He instinctively tightened his grip on Spencer, who responded by moving even closer. "What's going on, Hotch?"

The older man looked down at Spencer before lifting his eyes to Morgan. Then he said the words that turned all their worlds' upside-down. "A guard was found dead at the prison this morning. Vincent killed him and used his uniform to escape."


	32. Panic

"_A guard was found dead at the prison this morning. Vincent killed him and used his uniform to escape."_

Those words seemed to echo around in Spencer's mind. They blotted out everything else until there was nothing left. Master was free. Master had escaped. There was absolutely no doubt in Spencer's mind what this meant. Master was coming for him. He would come and take his boy home. There was no way he would let his boy run around free. Master would find him and take him and he would be gone. Lost. This time, no one would find him. Master would kill him first.

If the others had thought Spencer would go into a panic attack, they were wrong. He didn't scream or cry or hide or anything that they'd expected. Instead, he did something that scared them far, far worse. Spencer went completely and utterly still. His breathing slowed, his body froze, and he pulled inside of his mind. It was the only safe haven he had. Because of that, he didn't see the panic on Aaron's face or feel the way Morgan's arms tightened. He didn't see the doctor move forward to check his breathing and he didn't feel the fingers on his wrist that checked his pulse.

_He's going to come for you. He won't let you stay with Morgan or anyone else. Master will come and he'll take you away and you'll never see anyone again. You'll just be alone with Master and the pain all day, every day, until you die. And he will kill you eventually. You've always known that. No one can protect you now. No one can keep you safe._

His thoughts were absolutely terrifying. They flayed him from the inside with as much skill as his Master had ever flayed him from the outside.

_There'll be no therapy now. No slowly healing with Morgan. How could you seriously think that you were going to get a chance at a life with Morgan? You thought you could fight this? That you could 'come out the other side'? Master told you he'd come for you. You were stupid to think he wouldn't._

He didn't hear Morgan trying to talk to him. Didn't notice any of the panic going on around him at his catatonic state. Spencer was lost; trapped inside his own mind.

_You know what he'll do to you. He's going to hurt you for disobeying as much as you have. Even for things you haven't done. He'll assume you've slept with them all. That you let them Have you. Even if it isn't true, he'll think it is and he'll punish you for it. Whips, belts, fists. Rape. Everything he can think of until you're a bloody mess on his floor, too weak to even stand. Too weak to lift a hand from the floor to defend yourself. Not that you would. Master trained you so well._

No, no. He didn't want to go back. He couldn't go back to being Boy again. No!

_You know that's what he'll do to you. You'll become boy, because it's what you're trained to do. It's who you are. You've been broken and beaten just like a dog to come calling when Master calls. To heel, lie down, fetch. To take it all, over and over, giving him exactly what he wants. You think you'll fight him? You think you'll stand up to him and refuse to break? One hour in his presence and you know what you'll do. You'll be kneeling at his side, awaiting his orders. If he hits you, you won't fight back. You'll take it just like you always have. It's all you're good for._

Was that all he was good for? Was he doomed to live this life?

_You know you are. You're weak. You're not strong enough to stand up against him. You'll let him take you and you'll let him kill you if he wants and you won't even try to fight back. That's what you are. That's what you do. You're pathetic. You're Master's boy._

NO!

He was not boy anymore. He wasn't! He would _never_ be boy again!

That little bit of strength he'd been working on building lately started to grow inside of him. He was Spencer Reid, and he was not going to go down without a fight. He would not give in. Faces flashed into the darkness of his mind, bringing with them a little light. Emily, standing beside him in Morgan's backyard, her face lifted to the sun just as his was, a little smile curving her lips. Dave, grinning at him as he talked about things they'd done while he was gone, a little bit of pizza sauce on his cheek that no one told him was there. Aaron, steady and sure, a constant force in his life, smiling at him encouragingly when he was faltering, giving him looks that said he had faith in him. JJ, looking so sad and yet so happy when he asked for her hug, her arms gentle around him, that warmth and support he'd ached for.

Garcia, her face sweet and loving, holding him close as he shook, embracing him and helping to lead him back out of the darkness that had been trying to consume him. Morgan; so many images of Morgan! The look of pride he'd given this morning. The way his heart was in his eyes when Spencer told him things that had happened to him. The smile he would wear when trying to reassure him. The protective gleam that would settle there when he thought someone was pushing Spencer too much.

Morgan. Sweet God.

All at once the morning's events reasserted themselves into his mind. The gunshot that he'd taken to his arm that he knew, _he knew_, was meant for Morgan. It would have gone in Morgan's heart if they hadn't moved. That meant someone was trying to kill Morgan. It was too much of a coincidence that it happened on the same day they found out that Vincent had escaped.

Again Spencer saw in his mind the face of the man in the car. A face he had seen countless times at Master's house. He'd known when he'd seen the car; it was one he'd seen in his random peeks outside while he'd been upstairs when Master had guests. The man was one of Master's occasional business guests. The man had tried to kill Morgan. As well as he knew his Master, Spencer knew that another attempt would be made. Someone would come after Morgan again.

So what was he going to do about it? Was he going to sit here and hide and cower and be afraid? Was he going to be so terrified that Morgan spent all his time trying to protect him? Or was he going to grow up and man up and help to protect the person he loved? There was no real choice to be made.

Spencer gathered as much of his strength as he could and pulled himself out of his mind. Slowly the world seemed to return around him. Sound, first. Voices echoing around the small room, arguing with one another. Morgan's voice telling someone "…can just back off! I told you, I've seen him like this before and he'll be fine! Dammit, he was just slammed with bad news! Give him time to process it. You think you'd do ok if the man who tortured you had escaped from prison?"

"He needs medical help at the least and quite possibly psychological help as well!" A female was yelling back. Was that the doctor?

Touch was the next sense to come to him. Morgan's arms, tight around him, keeping him close and safe. Letting no one touch him. The warmth in those arms soaked into Spencer, warming him deep down inside. Last to return was his sight. He blinked his eyes against the suddenly bright light, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Aaron stood on the other side of the bed, his back to Spencer and Morgan, and on the other side of Aaron was a room full of nurses, the doctor, and still the security guard. One of Aaron's hands was resting on the butt of his gun. Why?

A second later he realized why. His boss, his friend, was protecting him. Keeping the others back so that Morgan could tend to Spencer. It was actually heartwarming to see.

This situation was growing quickly out of control. Spencer took a deep breath, realizing that his hands were still locked into Morgan's shirt, his body cradled against Morgan's chest. All he had to do was tip his head to be able to see his friend's face. The instant he moved, Morgan looked down at him and a wide smile lit up his face. "Welcome back, pretty boy." He murmured as he brought a hand up to cup the back of Spencer's head.

"I'm sorry." Spencer whispered to him. "I didn't mean….it was just instinct."

"Don't worry, kid. Hotch and I understood. We had your back."

Gratitude filled Spencer and he hoped it showed in his eyes. "Yes, I see that. But…can we move rooms now? We need to talk. All of us." As much as the idea of being in a small room with a crowd of people scared him, it was necessary, and it was his friends he was going to have in there. "The entire team, Morgan. There're things I need to tell you all that might help you. I'm the only one that knows Master well enough to help catch him."

Morgan sighed and nodded at him before lifting his head. "Hotch." He called. That was all it took to break through to their boss. The older profiler turned a little, his eyes taking in both Spencer and Morgan with one glance. "We need him either checked out or taken to a room. He's got something to tell the team."

A steady look and a firm nod were Aaron's answer. He turned back to the doctor. "Do you have a room prepared for him?" he demanded.

The woman looked beyond frazzled. "Yes." She snapped.

"Then I suggest you move him there now. And understand this; he is under our protection. Agent Morgan will be staying with him and a guard will be posted outside his room for the duration of his stay."

And, as Spencer had seen so many times before, not a single soul disobeyed the unit chief.

* * *

><p>Thirty minutes later, Spencer sat in his hospital bed in the same pair of pajama pants he'd been wearing when he left the house that morning. The top was gone, removed to tend to his arm, and he'd refused anything to put on over it. Clothes felt beyond confining right now. He would have suffocated or gone insane if he'd been forced to put anything else on. When Dave came, he brought a change of clothes for Morgan, who had promptly changed right by Spencer's bedside while the women waited in the hallway.<p>

When the two senior profilers saw Morgan take his credentials out of his sweater and transfer them to his coat pocket, they both gave him strange looks. "You carry your credentials when you walk the dog in pajamas?" Dave asked him with surprise.

Morgan shrugged and finished adjusting his clothes. "You never know when it'll come in handy." He said. With a smile he climbed into the hospital bed, situating himself against the elevated back. "I guess I'm just in the habit of grabbing them whenever I go anywhere. The bastard is lucky I didn't bring my gun with me."

Once Morgan had settled into the bed, Spencer didn't hesitate to curl into him, his back pressed against Morgan's front. No matter how much strength he was holding on to or how much courage he had built, things were just easier when he was physically touching Morgan. It made it easier for him to concentrate and keep that strength from faltering. Luckily, the bed was on the left side of the room, so Spencer could lie on his left side and keep his right arm from being touched while still being able to look at the rest of the room. When Morgan's arm settled around his waist, holding him close, Spencer couldn't stop himself from sighing in relief.

Now that they were settled, the door was opened and Garcia, Emily and JJ all filed in, taking varying seats around the private hospital room. Garcia naturally took the chair closest to the head of the bed, her hands coming out to rest over Spencer's and offer him support. Her eyes were red rimmed, showing that she'd been crying. JJ took a seat near the foot of the bed, reaching out hesitantly to touch at his ankle, unsure if her contact would be welcomed. Spencer couldn't bring himself to smile, but he gave her a look and a nod that he hoped conveyed his consent. It must have, because she smiled at him and let her hand curl around his ankle.

Dave had a chair against the wall, across from his bed, while Aaron and Emily stood on either side of him. The group made a little semi-circle around the bed. Spencer looked at them all and felt his heart grow a little. These people were the best friends he had ever had. They were his family. True to form, they were banding together now, uniting over the horror that loomed in the distance, each of them willing and eager to protect those that they considered theirs.

To try and gain enough strength to say what needed to be said, Spencer shifted his hand and laced his fingers with Morgan's in silent appeal. His friend didn't hesitate to squeeze his fingers to show him that he was there. That he wasn't going anywhere.

"I recognized the car." Spencer said suddenly. He chewed his lip a second before calming his mind. He had to do this right; not jumbled up and incoherent. This was important. So, he started over, walking them through what had happened, telling them about the strange sensation he'd had that had made him look around. No one interrupted him as he told about seeing the car, that he had recognized both it and the driver, and as he had pulled him and Morgan to the ground. Or as he told about how the shot hadn't been intended for him and the reasons why he knew that.

When he was done, Dave was the first to speak. "You said you know who did this? Do you know his name, Reid?"

Sadly, the young man shook his head. "No, I don't."

"Where do you know him from?" Though they all felt they knew the answer, Aaron still asked the obvious question.

This was where Spencer knew he would need strength. He gripped Morgan's fingers in his. "He…he was a business guest that Master had over occasionally. He helped Master in certain aspects of business. Did him favors."

"What kind of favors?"

Anyone could see that Aaron hated asking almost as much as Spencer hated the memories that swarmed to life.

His speech was more candid than they'd expected when he answered. "He assisted Master in disposing of the pretty ladies when it became necessary and in helping him transport any that he needed. In return, Master let him have one hour with me for each service rendered. Master never stayed in the room, but he supervised through the cameras and he had strict rules that had to be followed."

He saw the horror in their eyes at hearing that he had been used as barter. Spencer knew that it was a horrible thing, but it had been the way his life was at the time. _Maybe they didn't expect you to so openly talk about it. You haven't really been forthcoming about details before this._

Was that what it was? Gathering courage, Spencer quietly asked "Do you guys not want me to talk about these things? I don't mean to upset you."

It didn't surprise him that it was JJ who answered before anyone else could. "No, Spence. It's not that you're upsetting us." She rushed to reassure him. "It's just hard to hear sometimes, you know? We hate knowing that you had to live that way."

"Should I…should I not talk about it?"

"You definitely should." Dave said firmly. He leaned forward, arms resting on his thighs. "It's better to talk about it than bottle it up inside. I'm glad you aren't trying to hide it from us."

Hide it from them? "Why would I do that?" He asked with surprise. Tipping his head, he looked over at Morgan with confusion, hoping his friend would help him understand. "I don't understand."

Morgan's smile was slightly sad, confusing Spencer even more. "You remember dealing with victims, Spencer. Most of them don't like to talk about what happened to them. It's hard for them to do it, so they tend to bottle it up, which is dangerous for them."

"What's the point in doing that?" Spencer couldn't resist asking. He was beyond confused now. "Why would I keep it a secret?"

With his free hand, Morgan brushed a strand of hair back from Spencer's face, still smiling sadly at him. "Why don't you explain to them why you don't keep it a secret? Then they'll understand better."

Explain it to them? Spencer furrowed his brows as he tried to think of how to put it. He looked back out at the group of them while he gathered his words. "I just, I don't know. I don't see the point. If you wanted to know, you'd find out anyways. There's tons of video footage of my time there. I just, I don't understand this. You asked me a question and I answered. Wasn't that right?"

Emily gave him a reassuring smile. "It was, Reid. Don't worry. You just were so private before so it startles us a little when you aren't now."

"Oh. Well, what's there to be private about? Why bother? People always find out anyways. If you don't give it on your own, they just take it." He shrugged, ignoring the burn his arm gave when he did. "I'd rather just let it out right away then wait for it to be taken. It's easier."

When all their expressions turned slightly pained, Spencer bit at his lip. This was getting far off topic. He tried to scramble to bring it back to what was important. Why were they worrying about how he spoke when there was a bigger threat here? Someone was trying to kill Morgan and they were worrying about something as little as how candid he spoke to them? "I can give you a description of him, or a date for one instants I saw him. I happened to see the calendar that day. Then you could go to that day in Master's video files and see what he looks like on film. It was November twenty second last year."

"I can do that, sweetie." Garcia told him with a smile. "I'll run him through the system and see if I get any hits."

"Wait." Oh, wow, he was getting slow. It had been so long since he'd thought like a profiler. Like an agent. "I can't believe I didn't think of this. There's a simpler way. His car. The license plate is DDM-190. You'll probably find him easier that way."

"Perfect! I'll get right on it as soon as we leave."

With a calm and steady stare, Aaron moved toward the bed, stopping right beside it. "We'll be posting a guard outside the door." He told Spencer seriously. "The both of you are to stay here. For no reason are you to leave until tomorrow when you're discharged. When it comes time for you to leave, we'll all be here to escort you home. There we'll have no less than one other person staying with you two at all times until we have Vincent back in custody." His expression softened slightly to that gentle look that Spencer often saw there anymore. "We won't let him have you again, Spencer."

"What about the pretty lady?" Spencer asked suddenly. "She should be watched, too. He might…he might try to come and finish the job."

"I've already sent two agents to guard her. They checked in and let me know she's safe."

Spencer sagged back into Morgan. Everyone that was important was protected now. He closed his eyes on a sigh. The others seemed to take that as a cue to leave. He heard them all stand up, promising that they would be back soon. Garcia told Morgan she would contact him as soon as she knew anything, right after she told the team. Within a minute the room was empty once again.

The arm around Spencer's waist tightened slightly. Before Spencer could say anything, he felt Morgan shift and heard his low murmur. "Shut it off for a while, pretty boy. We're both here and we're both safe. You should get some sleep while you can. The next few days may be tiring."

His advice was sound. Secure in Morgan's arms, the younger man closed his eyes and let his brain shut down. Within moments, he was asleep.


	33. Too Much

**So wow I'm on a roll here. Daily updates lately, eh? Nice! I won't keep you with a long AN. Just want to say, please review this chap. If it seems predictable to you or you don't like where it's going, please let me know. If you read it, please, don't shoot me, lol. Sorry in advance! :D**

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><p>Morgan woke before Spencer did, still wrapped protectively around the young doctor. He took advantage of the moment to look down and study the sleeping face below him. He propped his head up on his hand and just looked at him. Some of Spencer's marks had finally started to heal, thank God. They weren't as bright on his skin as they had been. There were still lines on his face that showed his almost constant state of stress, but Morgan thought that maybe they weren't as strong as they had been before.<p>

He was surprised at how calm Spencer seemed to be about all of this. Morgan had been sure that the new strength Spencer had found before would have vanished with not only the attempt on Morgan's life, but with the news that Vincent had escaped. And yet it seemed that Spencer had only grown stronger because of these. The kid was absolutely amazing. Looking at him, Morgan knew he couldn't deny to himself what he felt for the man who had been his best friend for so long. He couldn't ignore the love that filled him when he looked at Spencer's sweet face, or into his wide eyes. He loved Spencer Reid. That was just a fact.

Oh, he knew that right now, nothing could come of it. Maybe never. There was a chance that the kid would never be comfortable being in a relationship with someone. Even if he eventually would be, it was going to be a long process to get him there. His healing wasn't going to happen overnight. It would take time and effort, not just on his part, but on the part of those that cared for him as well. But Morgan was willing to do it. He was willing to be whatever it was that Spencer needed. Loving him didn't mean that they had to be together; loving Spencer meant wanting the best for Spencer, even if it wasn't Morgan that was best for him. No matter what it was Spencer would eventually want, Morgan swore right then and there that he would be there for him.

In his sleep, Spencer lost some of the stress that usually was written on him. The night had been a long one. Not as long as some, but long nonetheless. Six nightmares had woken the kid from his sleep, making him thrash around the hospital bed and whimper in his sleep until Morgan got him awake. Afterwards, the kid cried against Morgan's chest, clinging to him like he was his only lifeline. Morgan would rub his back, hold him close, whispering soothingly to him. Anything to help calm him down. Then he stayed wrapped around him until Spencer fell asleep once more.

He'd expected the nightmares. Who hadn't? With news that Vincent was free it was natural that Spencer's nightmares would happen. Plus, the kid really did seem to sleep better when Clooney was there and they couldn't bring the dog into the hospital. Thankfully they would be released this morning and they could go back to Morgan's house. Spencer would relax more there.

It hurt to look down at the white bandage on Spencer's arm. He hated seeing anything mar his pretty boy's skin. What made it even worse was knowing that the shot had been meant for him. He didn't doubt Spencer's conclusion on that. With someone else, he might have. But he knew that Spencer know the guy who did it as well as Vincent, which lent credence to his words. On top of that was the fact that Spencer was the smartest guy he knew and if he said that the bullet would have hit Morgan's heart if they hadn't moved, then Morgan believed him. Spencer was the only guy he knew that could calculate something like that in a split second.

He hated that Spencer had been shot by protecting him. He hated that he hadn't been able to keep him safe. They should have been safe! They'd just been walking the dog. A small shudder ran down him when he thought of how much worse it could have been. The bullet could have hit Spencer somewhere vital. He could have lost him. If Morgan ever got his hands on the guy that had done this….

"It wasn't your fault."

Spencer's low murmur drew Morgan from his bloodthirsty thoughts. He looked at the face below him again, noticing that Spencer hadn't opened his eyes, but he was definitely awake. "What, kid?"

"It wasn't your fault I'm hurt. You couldn't have protected me from something like this. You couldn't have predicted it."

"I'm supposed to be protecting you, Spencer. You shouldn't have had to protect me." The words came out before he even thought about them. Somehow, Spencer has a way of doing that to him. Of bringing out things that he typically wouldn't say to anyone else. But he knows he can say them to Spencer.

The eyes he loved so much blinked for a second before fully opening and focusing on him. It lifted Morgan's heart to see that the shadows there weren't as deep and dark as they had been. Somehow, Spencer was finding strength in the horror around them right now, drawing on it and becoming more like his old self. "You do protect me, Morgan. You have. This…it wasn't your fault. I couldn't let someone shoot you. I'd rather take a bullet in the arm any day of the week than see you be shot in front of me."

"I'd rather be shot than see you be hurt again, pretty boy. I hate seeing you hurt."

"I can take it." There was nothing in Spencer's tone but truth there. He wasn't being condescending or boastful; just stating a fact. It hurt to hear it. "This, it's nothing, Morgan. I've had worse. I can handle this. I couldn't have handled if the bullet had hit you. I, I don't know what I would have done then."

Their conversation was cut short by the doctor walking into the room. She looked calmer than she'd been the day before; nowhere near as irritated. But her eyes did slide past Morgan to focus on Spencer. He tried to hold his grin in. The woman could be as irritated with him as she wanted. Morgan didn't regret a single thing. He'd promised Spencer he would stay with him and he had. Nothing would have been able to make him break that promise.

"Well, Dr. Reid, it's good to see you're awake! How're you feeling this morning?" she asked him kindly. She stopped almost a foot away from the bed, giving him personal space.

Spencer struggled to try and sit up. Realizing what his friend wanted, Morgan shifted and helped him upright, ending with Spencer's back pressed against him again so that he was almost supporting the kid. His arms were around Spencer's waist still, resting now in his lap with Spencer's hands covering his. It still amazed Morgan how much Spencer seemed to be craving physical contact with him. _Maybe it has something to do with the fact that all physical contact with me is gentle and reassuring and loving. It's the first contact he's had in years that he can count on not hurting him._ That thought made Morgan sit up just a little straighter and smile.

Once he was settled, Spencer dipped his head down, avoiding eye contact with the doctor. She was a woman, yes, so it was easier for him to relax around her. But Morgan realized that the yelling match she'd been in with him yesterday probably hadn't left Spencer with a good impression of her. The young man cleared his throat before telling her "I'm fine, thank you. May I go home now?"

"Well, I'd like to look at your arm, make sure no infection is trying to set in. Then we'd like to get you to eat something while we get you your prescriptions. After that, I'll see about discharging you."

Spencer's eyes shot up to Morgan. He saw the panic there and knew what it was for. "He won't take pain medication if you try to give it to him." Morgan told Dr. Tawny. "But the breakfast…" Now Morgan tipped his head down to look at Spencer. "You need the nutrients, sugar. Your body was put through trauma; it needs to replenish its energy."

"Can't I eat at home? Or on the way home?" Spencer whispered to him. "Please? I don't…I don't want to stay here." His voice turned even quieter. "Please, Morgan. I'd feel safer at home."

How on earth could he resist him? Those last words were all Morgan needed to hear. He looked up at the doctor and told her "Get his discharge papers together. We're leaving in the next half hour. I promise, I'll feed him when I get home." Then, without waiting to see what argument she would deliver, Morgan shifted and pulled out his cell phone, dialing Aaron's number to let him know they were getting ready to go home. If that was what Spencer wanted, what he felt he needed, then Morgan was going to take care of it for him. No matter what the uppity doctor said.

After that, things seemed to move quickly. It helped that Morgan basically ignored the doctor or anyone else. All of his attention was focused on Spencer. They got his arm checked—no infection so far, thank God—and then they were taking care of his paperwork and two agents arrived to escort them home since the rest of the team was at the local police station, trying to help in the effort to catch Vincent.

It was an hour after Morgan told Dr. Tawny that they were leaving that the two men walked into the kitchen of Morgan's house, almost instantly being greeted by a bouncing and barking Clooney. It warmed Morgan's heart to see Spencer smile down at the dog, his hand resting lightly on Clooney's head for a moment. It was sweet to watch how Spencer seemed to almost sigh out some of his tension at the contact with the dog. Yes, Clooney was definitely going to be a big part of Spencer's healing process. There was no denying that. He made Spencer feel just a little safer. When Spencer started counseling that was something the two should bring up with his counselor.

Morgan started a fresh pot of coffee before moving to the fridge. He knew Spencer needed to eat, but he also knew the kid wouldn't be up to eating much. So he settled for bringing out a bowl of fresh fruit that Garcia had left there as a premade snack and a cup of yogurt. He set them down on the table and brought over a spoon.

The two were silent while Spencer sat down and ate what was put before him. The mood around them just seemed to call for silence. Once the yogurt was gone and a few pieces of fruit had been eaten, Morgan cleaned up and brought over a cup of coffee for each of them. He settled down into the chair next to Spencer and waited. It was obvious to him that the kid had something to say. Whatever it was, he planned on just waiting him out. Spencer would get to it eventually.

~~~POV Switch~~~

After chewing it over in his mind for a while, Spencer finally decided to speak up about what was on his mind. "Morgan." Setting down his coffee cup, Spencer looked up into Morgan's eyes. He gathered as much courage as he could. "We need to go to the station with the others."

"What?" Surprise, Morgan furrowed his eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"

"WE shouldn't be just sitting here, waiting for something to happen. If this was a normal case, the surviving victim would be at the station being questioned about the person we were looking for. We'd draw everything we could from them and then we'd try to build a geographical profile to narrow down the area he might go to. I know Master like no one else. I'm the only one with intimate knowledge of him. I…I can help figure out where he might go to hide or what his next move might be."

It was easy to see that Morgan wasn't pleased with this idea. He looked not just upset, but afraid. "Kid, I don't know…"

"Yes, you do." Spencer cut in. He didn't know where this bravery was coming from, but he wasn't going to question it. He knew what he had to do. As much as the boy inside of him screamed that what he was doing was wrong, so very wrong, he knew he had to do this. He had to help them catch Master or he would never be free from him. "You know they need the information I have. Not just that, either. I, well, I mean…." Trailing off, he ran a hand through his hair. "I need this too, Morgan. I need to do this. Can you understand that? I need to do something. I can't just sit here and wait, afraid of what's going to happen, waiting for him to come in the door and take me away."

"I will never let him take you from me." Morgan insisted fiercely.

Those words put a warm glow around Spencer's heart. Yes, he truly loved this man. That love filled him up inside. "I know." He said gently. Though his hand trembled, he reached out and laid it over Morgan's on the table. "I need you to understand, Morgan. Please. I can't just wait here. I can't _not_ help. I need to do something, anything, to help with this. How can I heal if I don't start making myself grow up? I can't live my whole life in fear. I just can't do it. I want to help. I know I'm not perfect yet. I know I'm not even halfway toward being well again. But this, it's a step I need to take. I need to prove to myself I can do this. Can't you see that?"

The look in Morgan's eyes told Spencer that he'd won. The hand under his turned, curling around his fingers. Morgan's eyes slid closed for just a moment. "I guess you'd be just as safe in the police station, huh?" He said hoarsely. When his eyes opened, they were swirling with countless emotions. "If you need to leave at any time, I want you to tell me, ok? Don't push yourself too far, Spencer. Promise me that."

That he could grant, easily. "I promise."

Nodding, Morgan rose from the table, leaving his cup there. "Then let's get down there. I'll call Hotch and let him know we're coming."

* * *

><p>Though Spencer could see that the team wasn't happy with this turn of events, they all greeted him when he arrived with Morgan at the station. They were led through the main room quickly and taken to a conference style room where the team was set up. Once in there, Spencer breathed a little easier. There wasn't as many people back here. And once JJ shut the door, it was definitely quieter, which he appreciated.<p>

Looking at the room, Spencer tried to keep himself from shaking slightly at being the center of attention. Though he was feeling stronger inside, it was hard for him to be here in the room with them, the door shut, knowing that there was tons of people right outside. He couldn't help that fear that told him he was surrounded by people who could hurt him.

_Thinking like that won't help you!_ His mind scolded him. _You're here for a reason. You know this is the right thing to do. Master is Master, but this is your opportunity to show him that you are not Boy anymore. You are never going to be Boy again. You can help them catch him and make sure that he's put away for good. Do you _want_ to go back to living in that basement?_

Of course he didn't! His mind latched onto that._ See, you don't. No matter how well 'trained' he had you before, you know it's wrong. Even though a part of you still feels like you have to be with him, you know now that you don't. The rules changed when he sent someone to kill Morgan. You know that's what happened. He actually sent someone to kill Morgan. Hurting you, that's one thing. But not Morgan. Not those you care for. So you'll help them catch him and end this nightmare. Now, quit standing here shaking and do your job! Treat this like you would any other case. What's the first thing you'd do on a normal case_?

He looked to Morgan for a second, just to reassure himself that he was still with him, and then he turned his eyes to Aaron. "Do, uh, do you have a map? I, I can draw a geographical profile for you."

Surprise and pride lit Aaron's eyes for a brief second. He bent down and rustled around in the papers on the table, bringing out a folded map and a set of markers. Spencer appreciated the fact that Aaron brought them over and set them on the table instead of trying to hand them directly to him. Then his friend backed off, allowing him space to walk up.

So many things seemed to elude Spencer when he tried to do them. His brain had almost forgotten how to do some of the most basic functions. So he'd worried a little that this was something that would be gone, too. But when he opened up the map and picked up a marker, it was all right there in his mind. He stopped worrying for a split second and let the information he needed flood to the front of his mind.

Absently he started to move, marking off the places he needed to on his map. The rest of the room stopped being important to him, though a small part of his mind monitored everyone's movement and kept track of any potential danger. It was easier to relax when Morgan moved to stand protectively beside him. Morgan would make sure no one startled him.

Slowly but surely Spencer worked on his profile while the others worked near him, debating their points and discussing what they could do. He didn't listen to their conversation; didn't need to hear the profile they built on Master. He already knew the profile for him. Instead he focused on trying to figure out where he would run to.

By the time he looked up again, he had an area marked off that he suspected Master would run to. Where in that area, he didn't know, but he knew it would be within the circle he'd made. The cabin was in that circle. That was one of the first places Spencer was going to suggest they go look. There was a chance Master might not go there if he thought his boy had told, but Spencer felt that Master wouldn't suspect him of telling. He would be too trusting in his 'training'.

He looked up to tell them all what he'd figured out when he caught sight of JJ's face. She stood off to the side of the room, holding her phone in her hand, her eyes wide with panic. No one else had noticed her yet.

Instinct took over and had him moving toward her, his movements slow and gentle so as not to startle her. "JJ?" he called out softly. But that soft call was enough to draw all attention to her. Every pair of eyes in the room was focused on her and all sound cut off. JJ stayed frozen, not noticing them. Spencer moved closer until he could reach his hand out to touch hers. "JJ?"

She blinked, her eyes clearing a little. Once they did, tears filled them. She looked at him with an expression of heartache and terror that had him bracing for the worst. But nothing could have prepared him for what she said. He had worried something had happened with Master; he hadn't expected this.

"That was Will." She whispered brokenly. "He went to pick up Henry from the babysitters and found the babysitter knocked out on the ground. Henry's gone."

Then, with a broken sob, she crumpled into Spencer's arms.


	34. He Has My Godson

**Things will start picking up now, as you can see. My next update might come fast; I already have half the next chapter done. :) Sadly, the story is almost over. I hope you enjoy what comes now! I won't keep you, just please, R&R! Let me know what you think!**

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><p>The police station seemed to be almost buzzing with life. Spencer wrapped his arms around his waist as he stared at the map taped to the board in front of him. Behind him he could hear the others rushing in and out of the room, scrambling to come up with something, anything, that could help them. Thirty minutes had gone by since JJ had received her phone call. Thirty terrifying minutes in which no one had been able to find out a damn thing.<p>

JJ and Dave had left to go to the babysitter's house and try to find out as much information as possible. Garcia was set up with her computer, trying to see if she could access any cameras from anywhere near the babysitter's house to see if she could find an image of whatever vehicle Master would be driving. If they could find that, they might be able to track him that way.

Aaron was coordinating with the local officers, trying to get together groups to send out to different locations that Spencer had pinpointed. Emily was with him, prepared to go out to wherever she was assigned, ready to bring Henry back home.

That left Spencer and Morgan in the conference room. Morgan had taped Spencer's map up for him on a board so that the younger man could re-analyze everything. Taking Henry changed the parameters of things. Spencer knew the implications. He knew what this meant and he knew what could happen. The others might not have been willing to think that far ahead, but Spencer had. He'd heard Aaron and Emily quietly discussing the possibility that Master had taken Henry as payback. That he would call and tell them that he'd make a trade. Or that he might hurt the child to get back at them for taking Spencer from him.

Spencer knew what would happen. Master wouldn't hurt Henry—there would be no joy in it for him. He wasn't fond of children. No, he would use him as a bartering tool. And anyone who knew Spencer knew that it would work.

If he could just think hard enough, fast enough, maybe he could get ahead of Master in this. Maybe he could figure out where he would go. Where was somewhere that he would feel safe enough to hold Henry while he planned what to do next?

The noise of the station didn't bother Spencer anymore. People coming in and out of the conference room didn't disturb him. Nothing was breaking through his concentration. There was no time for fear to grip him. No time to panic about what would happen to Henry or to himself. He had to be clear headed and he had to figure this out. A small child's life depended on him. His _Godson_ depended on him. He would not fail at this.

A hand on his shoulder broke into his thoughts, pulling him out just enough to turn his head so he could look at Morgan. The older man sighed softly. "Pretty boy, you look almost dead on your feet. Why don't you sit down while you work?" he suggested. Morgan knew better than to suggest he take a break. None of them would take a break until Henry was found. But he was protective enough of Spencer to try and take care of him, even now. It made the love in Spencer's heart grow a little more.

"Do…do you think you could go get me some coffee? Not this stupid station swill?" Spencer asked almost shyly. He didn't really want the coffee but he couldn't think of any other way to get Morgan to leave him alone for a while. It wasn't that he didn't want Morgan with him; he did! But Morgan was the only one that could break through Spencer's concentration right then. He was the one person that Spencer couldn't block out. Right now, he needed to think more than anything else. This meant he needed to be alone. Not only that, but he could see that Morgan needed to be moving. He needed to do something other than sit there and watch Spencer. He was a man of action, not one prone to sitting and waiting. This would at least give him something to do.

Surprise lit Morgan's eyes. Seeing it, Spencer tried to modulate his words, needing Morgan to listen to him. "I'll be safe here, Morgan. I will. The station is full of police and Garcia will still be around if I…well, if I can't keep calm. I'll be fine for the short time it takes you to run to the coffee shop and back. I promise. Please?"

Morgan's hand rubbed briefly at his shoulder. "Ok, pretty boy." He said finally. "I'll get coffee and give you your space. Did you actually want me to bring you one back?"

Surprised, Spencer looked into Morgan's eyes, his eyebrows rising up. Then everything melted underneath a small smile. Had he really thought he'd be able to fool Morgan? There was no one in his life who understood him better. Love swelled up in Spencer, giving him the courage to lift his hand and lay it over Morgan's heart. "A small one." He said softly. "And thanks, Morgan. For understanding."

The older man smiled back at him before turning and heading out of the room, leaving Spencer to his thoughts. That little moment of levity had been enough to help Spencer relax his mind once more. His brain wasn't scrambling as hard anymore. Hopefully it would make it a little easier for him to think.

Just as he turned back to the map and tried to start again, something else interrupted him.

"Dr. Reid?" A shy looking officer stepped into the conference room, calling out to him as she wrung her hands nervously. When he turned to look at her he saw that she looked like she was scared to approach him. That didn't surprise him, really. The cops here probably all knew his history; the injuries he'd inflicted when he was rescued was most likely fresh in their minds still. None of them would want a repeat performance of that. He chewed on his lip and tried to keep himself calm as he said "Yes?"

"You have a phone call on line two."

A phone call? Who on earth would be calling him? For a moment he considered just ignoring it. There was no one he wanted to talk to right now. But, looking out to the main part of the station, he realized that JJ and Dave were still gone. Maybe it was one of them. Maybe they had some news for him. So he nodded at the officer and moved over to pick up the phone. "Hello?" What came next sent chills down his spine.

"About time you got here, _boy_."

_Oh God, oh God, oh God_. Words dried up in his throat. This was what he'd been waiting for. This was what he'd known was coming. _It's too soon! I didn't have enough time!_

"I want you to listen and listen well, boy. Use that big brain of yours and don't you dare miss a detail of what I'm about to tell you. While on this phone, you answer me with 'yes sir' or 'no sir', are we clear?"

The response was automatic. "Yes Sir." Shame curled low in his gut. Thank God the officer was gone and no one else was in the conference room. No one would have seen the panic on his face or hear him talking this way. His friends would have figured it out in an instant.

"Good. Now, I've worked too damn hard to get the hell away from them all to let you fuck things up for me. Those bastards have broken your training to hell, I know that. So, to be careful, I brought a little insurance to me. With this insurance here, you're going to do exactly as I tell you."

He wanted to demand that Master let Henry go, but he couldn't force himself to speak beyond the terror. He couldn't make himself disobey the order he'd been given. It was terrifying, how quickly the boy in him came out.

A chuckle filled his ear. "Good. You still know how to listen. For that, you get a reward. That's being a good boy. Now…" The phone shifted, Master's voice sounding slightly further away. "…say hello."

Everything inside of Spencer ached over when he heard the small little voice of his two year old Godson cry out to him "Untle Pen!" The shield Spencer had put over his mind now broke, allowing the terror to leak in. He'd been forcing himself not to think of the fact that Master had Henry; now, he couldn't keep that control. Thoughts of what he could be doing to that little boy almost sent Spencer to his knees. Nausea curled in his stomach. He knew what was coming, just as he knew there was no way he could stop it from happening. Instantly he locked his body down, shoving the emotions inside so that no one would be able to read a thing on his face. He prayed with all his might that Morgan wouldn't come back before Spencer had a chance to do what he knew his Master would ask of him.

"Now, boy. I'm going to give you an address. You have thirty minutes to find a way here. No cell phones, no GPS, no other agents. Nothing. Just you. If you lead them to me or bring anyone with you, well, you know what I can do to the boy."

"Yes, Sir. Anything, Sir."

Another chuckle came over the line. A moment later he heard his Master rattle off an address. "Thirty minutes, boy." Then the line went dead.

Terror filled every inch of Spencer. Yet, somehow, his hand was steady as he reached out and set the phone back in the cradle. Almost absently he grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and put them in his pocket. On the inside he was in a complete panic, but on the outside he was calmer than ever. He had thirty minutes. On foot, the distance to the address would take him twenty six, if he moved slowly. Quicker if he ran. That meant he had no more than four minutes to get out of the police station. But how? His friends wouldn't just let him walk out and not wonder where he'd gone.

His mind snapped over to analytical mode. There was really only one option he could think of. Stepping out of the conference room, he looked over to where Garcia was and waved a second, catching her attention. When she would have walked to him, he shook his head. No, he couldn't have her come close. Not now. He'd break. Instead, he mouthed the word bathroom and gestured down that direction. She smiled and nodded at him, wearing a look of pride that he was going to go on his own and wasn't panicking. _If she only knew_.

Story now set, Spencer turned and headed to the bathroom, praying no one was in there. When he walked in and found it empty, he breathed a sigh of relief. Then he turned and locked the door. It wouldn't hold them off for long; Morgan would break down the door after a while most likely. That man was always breaking down doors. But it would give him a safe enough head start. From his pocket, Spencer pulled out the paper and pen he'd snagged from the desk. He quickly scrawled a note and set it on the sink where it would be found.

Two of his four minute window to leave was already gone. Spencer wasted no more time. He opened the bathroom window and blessed his small size; it made it easier to slide his small frame outside. The impact of hitting the ground jolted him for a moment, making pain echo through him, but he forced it back. That wasn't important right now. Henry was important.

That mantra in mind, Spencer Reid took to the trees nearby and started to run.

* * *

><p>Fear and anger tangled together inside of Morgan as he made his way back into the police station. He hated feeling this totally helpless. Spencer was in danger, Henry had been taken, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do right now. Part of him wanted to be going with the teams to search the areas of interest that Spencer had already pointed out. But the bigger part of him wouldn't let him leave Spencer for that long. Walking to the coffee shop and back had been hard enough. Right now Spencer was in danger and Morgan needed to protect him. He had to.<p>

Absently he scooted around officers and their desks, easily weaving his way through the crowd, well used to being in police stations. He sipped off his own coffee, holding the small cup for Spencer in his other hand. Hopefully he'd given Spencer long enough to collect his thoughts. It had been easy for him to see that Spencer needed some alone time. The ruse of going to fetch coffee had been a weak one. With everything going on, how could he deny Spencer the few minutes to himself to think and to organize his thoughts? So many things were happening so quickly that it was hard to keep up with it all without starting to break a little.

Morgan looked toward the conference room as he skirted another desk. When he saw the room was empty, he stopped. Where on earth was Spencer? Automatically he looked for Garcia. If Spencer wasn't in his quiet room, then Garcia was the most likely person for him to be around. But when Morgan spotted Garcia, he saw that she was alone.

Something akin to panic started to build in Morgan's stomach. _Calm down! Maybe he just went to grab something. Maybe you missed him when you looked over the room for Garcia. Just go ask her. He would have told her where he was going_.

Morgan pushed the panic down and made his way toward Garcia. She saw him coming and gave him a weak smile. "Hey, honey." She called, moving out to meet him.

"Hey." He replied. "Where's Spencer?"

For a second Garcia looked confused, her eyes drifting toward the conference room. "He's not back yet? He let me know he was going to the bathroom a bit ago." She said. Sighing, she ran a hand over her face, her usual cheerfulness gone. "Poor baby. He's probably taking a breather. God, Morgan. This has got to be eating him up inside."

The panic in Morgan's gut grew even more. Something was wrong. What, he didn't know. But something was definitely wrong. He didn't bother tapering down that panic anymore. Every instinct in him was humming. Something was wrong. He didn't waste any more time. Setting the cups of coffee on the nearest desk, he took off toward the bathroom, not realizing the attention he drew as he did.

When he reached the bathrooms, he tried the handle, only to find the door locked. "Spencer!" he called out, banging his hand on the door. "Open up, kid! Come on."

There was no answer. The panic grew a little more, blocking out everything but the bathroom door in front of him. Morgan didn't see any of the people that came up behind him. Aaron, Emily, Garcia. He was too busy banging on the door again, his panic echoing in his voice. "Spencer! Spencer, open this door, now!" he shouted. Any other time he wouldn't have dared to say anything to Spencer that sounded like an order, but if it got the kid to open the door then Morgan wasn't going to hesitate to use it now.

Still nothing.

Morgan stepped back, not giving a damn now. He was getting in that bathroom. The panic was almost out of control now. He knew something was wrong. He just knew it! Without a second's pause, he brought his foot up and slammed it into the door, knocking it open. When he rushed in, everything inside of him seemed to freeze. There was no one in there. No sound whatsoever. If Spencer had been in one of the stalls, he would have made a sound at the door slamming open that way. Still, Morgan made himself check each stall.

It was after the last one that he noticed something. The bathroom window was open. Sweet God.

"Morgan."

Aaron's voice broke through, pulling his attention around to face his boss. For the first time Morgan realized that he wasn't alone. Then he saw the piece of paper in Aaron's hand. Terrified suddenly, Morgan stepped forward, barely noticing that he was moving. _Please, God, no. Please don't let him do what I think he did. Don't let him be gone. Please, let him be ok._

With a trembling hand, he reached out and took the paper from Aaron, bringing it over to read.

"_Everyone,_

_I know you've figured out by now I'm gone. I'm sorry. I can't tell you where I'm going. I hope you understand that. He called me and told me where to go. I don't want to, but he has my Godson. I can't let him hurt him. I promise you I'll do everything in my power to get Henry safely home. I hope you understand why I can't tell you where he told me to go. I can't risk him finding out you're coming and hurting Henry. I can take the pain, my Godson shouldn't have to._

_I love you all. I'm so sorry._

_Spencer"_

The note fluttered to the ground as Morgan spun and darted into one of the stalls. He barely made it inside and to his knees before he was throwing up. His mind could only repeat three words over and over, torturing himself with them. _Vincent has Spencer. Vincent has Spencer._


	35. Derek Morgan, I Love You

**I know this was fast :D I had it already partially written lol. This chapter and the last chapter were actually the first two I wrote for this story. They were the idea that came to me first, before the rest of the story. So I kind of ended up writing the hard part first and the rest came later. I had no idea what would happen in the rest of the story as I wrote it, I just wrote it as it came to me, but I knew it would all lead to this here. I hope you enjoy this and I'll update again most likely in a day. I'll start working on the next chapter tonight when I get home. I've got two, maybe three chapters left. To all those that are reading Undercover, sorry, lol, it's on hold as I wrap this up. Hope you understand! :D So, R&R and enjoy!**

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><p>The station held an even more frantic air than before. It grew worse when JJ and Dave came back, only to find out that Spencer was now gone. Emily and Dave both had to catch her arms to keep her from dropping straight to the ground. Spencer's name was a low moan on her lips. This was all too much. It was just too much for her to handle. Morgan reached out, taking her hand in his,. He had no strength to offer but he could lend his support and understanding.<p>

A sudden shout interrupted them. "Guys, guys!" Garcia shouted. "Someone's hacking the station's system!"

The team moved as a unit to stand behind Garcia. Just as they reached her, every computer in the police station went to a black screen before popping up with the same image. It was of a small room. Inside it were Henry and Spencer.

The little boy was chained off on the side of the room to a pipe on the wall. There was a cloth tied over his eyes, thankfully, and he looked unharmed. There was no blood on him, no visible marks. His small sobs were echoing over the speakers.

In center screen was Spencer. The sight of his body gripped Morgan, holding him frozen in place. _Sweet God_ his mind whispered. There was already blood dripping down Spencer's arm from his gunshot wound and from a new wound on his side. Fresh bruises mottled his skin in various places. A look of absolute terror was on his face, though it was obvious that he was trying to contain it.

The silence in the room was finally broken. "Oh sweet God. Henry." JJ whispered as her tears started to spill over. She couldn't stop her hand from coming out, fingers tracing over the computer image of her son. He was alive. Scared, but alive. And in the hands of a maniac.

The smirking face of Vincent appeared on the screen. "Hello there, FBI agents. As you see, it's just like I told you all. My boy is right back where he belongs. It was easy, really. All I had to do was use this little shit over here to lure him back home. I know my boy better than any of you. I know how to handle him."

Suddenly the smirk slid off Vincent's face. "Now all of you are going to see what your interference has caused. You'll all suffer for stepping in like this. You, Agent Morgan, can see what you could have prevented if you'd just left my property alone! I had to make you see so you can _understand_!" He paused, gathering his composure. "Who should take the punishment, do you think? My boy, or yours, JJ?" he snarled. The use of her name had JJ startling. A moan slid past her lips. No, no! Not her son. Morgan grabbed one of her hands while Emily took the other, gripping them tightly. Garcia put a hand on her hip and she even felt Hotch and Rossi behind her, touching her shoulders. _Please, God, don't let him hurt my son!_

Apparently she wasn't the only one that was thinking that way. All of a sudden Spencer started to twitch in his chains. "No!" He shouted, startling all of them, Vincent included. "No! That wasn't the deal! I came home, Master! I came here. You said you wouldn't hurt him!"

There was a thud as Vincent spun and punched Spencer in the stomach. The sound made Henry jump and sob harder.

"If I want to hurt him, _boy_, you aren't going to stop me." Vincent snarled at Spencer. He gripped his hair, tipping his head back. But Spencer wasn't done. Panting through the pain he was obviously feeling, he spoke again. "Don't hurt him, Master. Don't. He's just a child."

This time Vincent let go of Spencer's hair and punched him right in his mouth. It still didn't stop Spencer, though. The others watched with horror as Spencer spit out what looked like a tooth and let the blood trail down his face, speaking around it. "Please, Master. Please. You don't want a child. What good would he be for you? He's just a two year old. There's no fun there. None at all. He may scream, but he won't scream well. He'd die too quickly. Little bodies just aren't up for this. Look at him; he's nothing like what you want. He's useless to you."

Sobs tried to rip their way up JJ's frame as she listened to Spencer's harsh words. What on earth was he doing? "He's going to make Vincent kill my baby!" she whispered starkly.

Morgan spoke up softly beside her. Pain echoed through every word; he knew what Spencer was doing and it broke his heart. "No, he's not. He's a profiler, JJ, and he knows this man better than any. He knows Vincent won't kill him."

"Then what the hell is he doing?"

It was Spencer who spoke then, answering her question. Surprisingly, Vincent was standing, staring at Spencer, not hitting him for talking. "Master, look at him, he's nothing like what you want. He's too small. He probably couldn't even get in more than two screams." Swallowing, Spencer looked at his tormenter. "Why don't you send him away? Drop him off somewhere or just open the door and let him out. He's too little. He won't be able to tell where we are. Then…then I'm all yours. You can have me to yourself just like it's meant to be."

When he saw that Vincent wasn't getting angry, Spencer kept going, his voice more eager. "Remember how it was, Master? Why bother with his little screams? I'll scream for you. I'll scream for you for hours. You know I can. You love listening to me scream. I'll bleed for you, Master. Remember how sweet it tastes? No one can make me bleed, make me scream, like you can when you Have me. Remember how good it feels, Master? You don't need him. Your boy is right here, waiting for you. I need you. I've been a bad boy, Master. I need you, please, punish me. Only you can take care of me."

"You've been a bad boy, hm?" Vincent took a step forward, tipping his head to look Spencer in the face.

Eagerly Spencer nodded. "Yes, Master. Please, I want to be alone with you. Just you and me, the way it's supposed to be. Let the kid go. We don't need him. I'm right here, all yours. I'm not going anywhere. I'm home, where I belong. With you. Please, Master, I need you to punish me."

The indecision was still on Vincent's face. All of them saw the knowledge flash in Spencer's eyes, followed by something that almost looked like resignation before it was masked underneath his shield. His next words made no sense to anyone but Morgan and Garcia. "Remember how good the Inferno felt, Master? Remember how it made you feel? It's been a long time."

Garcia gasped and Morgan moaned, long and low and painful, but they said nothing. A flash came into Vincent's eyes. He grabbed Spencer's chin, pulling him in for a sharp kiss before shoving him back. Then he moved quickly across the room to Henry. A moan slid past JJ's lips when the man roughly unhooked her boy and yanked him up. He looked to the camera. "I'm going to drive him away and drop him off by a payphone, where I will dial the station number and leave the child with the phone."

That said, the man turned and raced with Henry from the room, forgetting entirely about the camera. Everyone in the station watched on their screens as Spencer cocked his head, listening for a sound. Apparently he was satisfied with what he heard because his gaze turned to the camera. There was such a dead look in his eyes.

"JJ, if you're watching this, I am so sorry he took Henry from you. He didn't hurt him that I know of. I am so sorry your son had to go through this terror. He was blindfolded, but I hope he didn't hear anything too traumatic. Please, make sure he knows his Godfather loved him. With counseling and with your and Will's love, I know he'll make it out of this. You're one of my best friends, JJ. One of the kindest, sweetest, most gentle women I've ever known. You've always been like a mother and a sister rolled into one. I always appreciated all you did for me. Please know that.

"To the rest of you, I'm sorry. I had to do this. I couldn't let him hurt my Godson. I've messed up so many things lately, but this was something I had to do. If anything, Master is a man of his word. Henry won't be hurt. You'll be getting a call soon in the next five to ten minutes, I'd guess."

The station was so silent a pin dropping would have sounded like a bomb. No one could take their eyes from the screens.

"Hotch—Aaron—I know you did everything you could. I know that. You've been a strong, driving force in my life. If it wasn't for some of the things you've taught me, I never would have made it as long as I have in any part of my life. You gave me so much and you taught me how to be a man, not just a kid. Thank you. Don't let this shut you down. Don't lock yourself away. There's a difference between being a strong leader and isolating yourself from the world. So much has happened to you, but you don't have to be alone. Don't isolate yourself, you have so much to give and receive.

"Rossi, you've been like family to me. Like everyone's favorite Uncle. Stern when you needed to be, but always there. Your door was always open and I may not have used it before this started, but it was a comfort to know it was there. Keep your door open for the others; they're going to need it. You're one of the biggest pegs that hold us together. We all hated when you came to replace Gideon, yet somehow you ended up being one of the most important parts of us.

"Emily. My pretty lady." He paused, smiling softly. "You try and act so tough all the time and you think no one notices the soft person underneath. It's a shield you put up to keep safe but at the same time you always looked desperately like you wanted someone to see the woman underneath there. I always did. You may be tough, but you've got a huge heart that's just full of love. Don't hold it back. Don't keep from loving people. Remember that, no matter how cold the world gets, the sun is always there. Don't forget to keep tilting your face up and letting it warm you, my sister. My pretty lady."

Off somewhere in the station a phone rang. JJ hurried to it, hovering over the officer who answered the call. Within moments the two were racing out the door. Henry had been dropped off. Their time was limited.

"Garcia." Spencer paused again, another smile curving his lips. "Sweet Penelope. Back at the beginning, back when I was first taken, memories of you helped me too. Everything happens for a reason, right? I held on to that through so many hellish nights, even when I couldn't remember who you were, I held on to that belief. I still do. Don't you let this destroy you, Penelope. Don't. Your love of life is one of the best things about you. No matter what, you've always been able to make me smile, make me want to laugh, even when I felt like I was dead on the inside."

Pausing, Spencer spat blood onto the ground. He sighed, his body shuddering. "Morgan. There are so many things I wish I could say to you, but I'm running out of time. I've probably got another five minutes. He's probably speeding home. I want to tell you the things I didn't have the strength, the courage, to say before." All at once, even though he was bruised and bleeding and obviously in pain, a look of pure love was on Spencer's face, so warm and sweet that it brought tears to Morgan's eyes. "You are one of the most kind-hearted, courageous, beautiful people I have ever known. With every fiber of my being, Derek Morgan, I love you. I think that, more than anything else, that love was what kept me from going totally insane. It gave me the strength to take my core, my pride, and lock it deep down inside so I could do what I needed to do to stay alive. It gave me the strength to try and live again and it gave me the strength to walk back in here when Master took Henry. I love you so much, Derek."

There wasn't a dry eye in the station now. In the silence, Morgan's words were audible to everyone. "I love you too, pretty boy."

After spitting more blood out, Spencer lifted his chin. "Penelope, Morgan, I want you two to do me a favor. Don't let the others watch the video if he leaves it on. He probably will be so caught up in what I offered that he won't even think of it. I know you heard…you know what he's going to do. It was the only way to entice him enough to take Henry to safety. The only way I could guarantee he'd take him away and not hurt him. You can explain to them why, but don't let anyone watch it, please. No one needs to see that image. Turn it down so no one has to hear me. Please, just…let me die with some dignity left." A breath shuddered out of Spencer. "I can't tell you where I am because after I arrived, he moved me in a car. I know it wasn't far, but I don't know where.

"I came here knowing I'd die here. I've accepted that. I love all of you and I'm so sorry for the pain I've caused. Take care of each other, please."

Something had Spencer's head snapping up to the ceiling. A look flashed into his eyes, there and gone again. He swallowed, visible even on the computer screen. "Remember, don't watch." He begged them just as footsteps sounded off screen. "I love you. All of you." Then his face closed off and they knew he was drawing inside his head, locking himself away from the pain that was coming.

Garcia's fingers flew over the keyboard of the laptop she pulled out from a bag. Despite the tears on her face, she looked fierce and determined. Within moments the video disappeared off of all screens but the computer in front of her. She set her laptop by the desktop computer. "Morgan, take the team out of here." She demanded harshly. "There's a loophole in his firewall. I'll find the son of a bitch, but it'll take me at some time." Her voice faltered for a moment. "If I…If that's too long, we need to honor his wishes. Go."

It was hard, but Morgan ushered everyone away from the computers and towards one of the conference rooms. He looked back, seeing Garcia reach up to mute the desktop speaker right as laughter started to come out. Then she was snapping orders for something to be set up on either side of her at the desk for privacy.

He couldn't bring himself to shut the door all the way, hoping beyond hope that Garcia would get him an address where this was streaming from. If so, he wanted to be ready. But more than that, he knew that as soon as he was done in here, he was going back out there. No matter what Spencer said, Morgan was going to be with him. Even if they couldn't get to him in time, even if Spencer didn't want anyone to see him, Morgan was going to be with him in the only way he could. He wouldn't let…wouldn't let Spencer die alone.

One look at his friends told him that they were all still in shock…and that they were all waiting for an explanation. He knew exactly what for.

Air shuddered in and out of his lungs. It was so hard to think, so hard to do anything, knowing that his pretty boy, his Spencer, was right at that moment being hurt in the worst ways imaginable. But Spencer has asked him and Garcia to explain and Garcia was busy. That meant it was all left to him. He couldn't bring himself to do anything beyond the numbness inside but honor what Spencer had asked of him.

He had to clear his throat a few times just to make his voice work. "When he asked him to remember how good the inferno felt, I knew what he meant. Garcia and I both did. That's why he wanted us to make sure you guys don't watch. So you don't have to see him live through that."

"What is it?" Emily asked in a small voice. It was so different from the usual strength she carried with her. That shield she always had up, the very same one Spencer had commented on, was definitely cracked at the moment.

This was the hardest part. Morgan had to close his eyes as he spoke the words that were ripping him apart. "Hotch, remember that day at the house, when Spencer freaked at what Ethan said? Well, one time, Spence performed Dante's Inferno when he was made to recite. Apparently the idea intrigued Vincent. The next time he came down, he'd made a session known as the inferno. Spence said Vincent only did it twice the whole time he had him because it took Spence a week to recover from it each time."

Opening his eyes, Morgan looked at them. "He said in Dante's Inferno the character goes through the nine circles of hell."

"Limbo, lust, gluttony, greed, anger, heresy, violence, fraud, and treachery." Dave said softly.

Morgan nodded. For the next few minutes, he quickly summed up the conversation that he, Spencer and Garcia had had in Morgan's bed that day. By the time he was done, there were tears in everyone's eyes. Emily was gripping the back of a chair so hard her knuckles were white. Aaron looked so pale that Morgan was afraid he might pass out any second. Dave just looked sick. Horribly, completely sick.

His job done, Morgan didn't waste time on his friends. He wanted to comfort them, yes. But nothing was more important than Spencer. Turning on his heel, he spun and headed right back toward the computer. Garcia was still sitting there, her fingers flying over the keys, cocooned in her little cubicle. She didn't look up when Morgan pulled a chair over. Silently she scooted sideways. "I'd tell you to go, but you wouldn't listen." She said in a rough voice.

"No, I wouldn't. I won't let him go through this alone."

She said nothing about the fact that Spencer wouldn't know he was there. She just kept working as quickly as she could. Morgan gripped his hands tightly together and finally forced his eyes to lift to the screen. He had tried to brace himself for what he would see. He should have known that nothing could prepare him.

Spencer was lying on the ground on his back, just barely visible at this angle. Apparently Vincent really had forgotten entirely about the camera, because it wasn't even turned down enough to properly view them. But Morgan could still see enough to know what was going on. Spencer's hands were above his head, most likely secured to something on the floor. Vaguely Morgan wondered how this man had recreated his previous basement so well.

It looked like Spencer was sobbing something, trying to say something. Vincent was straddling his waist, grinning in a way that made Morgan sick. He couldn't stop himself from rooting around, looking for headphones. He couldn't stand the silence. Garcia must have been reading his mind because she suddenly handed him a pair. The two said nothing as he plugged them in and turned the sound back on before putting the little buds in his ears. Almost instantly Spencer's voice filled them. "Please, please, no! Take it off, take it off!"

"Ah, ah, Boy. Quiet. I don't want to hear you right now."

Everything in Morgan clenched tightly when he saw Vincent lean forward and place his hands around Spencer's neck. In his mind, Morgan heard Spencer's voice, taking him back to that day that Spencer had described the Inferno to them. _"For limbo, he figured that it meant that one was between life and death. So, he strangled me until I passed out. Then he revived me and would do it again."_

Helpless, he watched as Vincent strangled the life out of the young doctor. It was the hardest thing Morgan had ever witnessed. Somewhere right now his love was being murdered. Slowly, torturously. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. There was nothing he could do. _I'm so sorry, Spencer. God, I'm sorry. I should have protected you. I should have been there for you. I love you, baby boy. I love you so much. If we get you out of here, I'm going to tell you that every single day for the rest of your life._

He couldn't tear his eyes from the screen as Spencer's voice gurgled in his ear, trying to draw in air. He watched that lithe body buck and shake and try to dislodge the figure that was relentlessly depriving it of oxygen. A sob threatened his throat when he watched Spencer's body slump and go still. God. God.

"Oh God." Garcia's whimper was soft. She didn't reach for him, though. Her hands just flew faster over the keyboard.

Morgan held his breath and prayed harder than he ever had in his entire life. As Vincent bent over Spencer's mouth, blowing the air back in to his abused lungs, Morgan kept praying. When he finally saw Spencer's body jerk and heard him cough, the sob trapped in his throat broke free. He was still alive!

"I've got it!"

The tech analyst's scream echoed through the entire station. All at once everyone was silent, their eyes on Garcia as she spun toward Morgan. "I sent the address to your phones. Go get him!" She practically shrieked at him. Morgan didn't need to be told twice. He ripped the headphones out of his ears and pulled out his phone even as he was rising and moving toward the station doors. He didn't bother to see if his team was following; he knew they were.

Just as they reached the SUV's, Aaron caught up with him, tossing him a Kevlar vest. "I'm driving." Was all he said. As he made to climb into the front passenger seat, Morgan noticed JJ climbing in the back beside Emily and Dave. Her expression was hard and fierce, daring him to protest. "Will has Henry." She told him in a voice gone cold as ice. "I'm bringing Spence home."

He gave her a look just as fierce, a mutual anger radiating between them, bonding them together. They weren't angry with each other; no, their rage was directed solely toward Vincent. Their determination matched. They would bring Spencer home. JJ was not going to stay and wait for them to rescue her friend. He had sacrificed everything to save her son, his Godson. She would do no less to bring him home.


	36. I Didn't Let Him Win

**Not sure how I feel about how this chapter came out, so I guess I'll just go ahead and post it. if it didn't come out great guys, well, I'm sorry. I hope I managed to convey the image that I wanted to. One more chapter after this, I think, and then Time is coming to an end. Please, enjoy.**

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><p>The whole world was dark. Not a shred of light made it into Spencer's world. He lay on the floor, his hands handcuffed to a metal hook in the floor, his body stretched out so that his arms were up over his head. And he could see nothing. The superglue was dry on his eyelashes, locking him into the darkness. It was the darkness that brought the terror for him. To see what was coming at him would have given him preparation time. But being unable to see anything, to not know what was coming or from where, put his body on a hyper alert and made every small sound terrifying. Every strike ten times more painful.<p>

When Master's weight settled over him, pinning his waist and chest to the floor, instinct had Spencer bowing up to try and buck him off. _Oh no, please, no. Please. Don't do this to me!_ His brain sobbed out through the panic. Every strength and defense he'd built up seemed to scatter like dust in the wind. If he could just _see_, it wouldn't be so hard! It wouldn't be so bad! But he'd known this was going to happen as soon as he'd made his promise to Master so that Henry could go free.

Henry.

At least he'd managed to do one thing right. He'd saved Henry. But, to do so, he'd had to sacrifice his life. Spencer considered the trade worth it. There was nothing he wouldn't do to save his Godson from being in Master's hands. Even promise to do the one thing he knew would most likely kill him. The Inferno. But he'd kept his calm, kept his head level, even as he'd felt himself break inside. He'd begged and pleaded and wheedled until Master had been too enthralled with the idea to wait. So he'd taken Henry and dropped him off.

Spencer swallowed and reminded himself that he'd at least been able to say goodbye. He knew Vincent was streaming this to the station; Master had gleefully explained it all when he'd brought them to this new place. At the last house, he'd been unapologetic as he'd struck Spencer across the face, knocking him down and making him dizzy. Then he'd put a bag over his head and cuffed him and taken him and Henry into the back of a van. Where they'd driven, Spencer had no idea. He had no clue where he was.

But when the bag had been yanked off his head once more, he'd found himself in a basement that was almost a perfect replica of the one he'd lived in before. That had been enough to start the terror. That terror had grown when he'd seen Henry chained to a pipe in the wall.

_But you got him free. He's not here anymore. He's free, back with his mom._

The weight over Spencer shifted, drawing him back out of his thoughts. Teasing fingers danced here and there, taunting him. "You like it in the dark, boy?" Master hissed. "You like what I do to you? You like not being able to see?"

Spencer cowered deep inside while the boy broke to the surface, sobbing slightly. "Please, please, no! Take it off, take it off!"

"Ah, ah, Boy. Quiet. I don't want to hear you right now."

Even though he couldn't see it coming, Spencer knew what was coming next. But there was no way to brace for the hands that clenched around his neck. That moment, as the air was cut off from his lungs, instinct took over. His body twisted and bucked, trying to dislodge the figure over him. He heard the insane chuckles just barely over the rush of blood in his ears. His head spun and his body grew weaker as more pressure was applied until finally, there was nothing left in him to fight with. His body collapsed and he slipped into the darkness only to be revived just moments later.

Twice more this was done. Twice more he was knocked out and brought back. When his hands were released, he curled them toward his exhausted body, automatically moving them to cradle his throat. He heard Master move to stand over him. Couldn't see the sneer he wore, but he could hear it in his voice. "You're pathetic, boy. Look at you. Only the first level and you're a cowering mess. How the hell you think you're going to survive lust?" There was a tapping sound echoing around the room. Spencer knew Master was tapping his toe impatiently. "I've been aching to punish you. I want to feel your blood, hear you scream. I think we'll hold off on Lust and move to Anger for now. So get on your feet, boy, and try to fight me. Let's have at it."

Anger? They were skipping to anger? His brain repeated the description he'd given to Morgan and Garcia. _Anger. He ordered me to defy him so that he could beat me. Then he'd make me stand and defy him again and beat me again. Hours it went on_. Master wanted him to defy him. Over and over.

The boy moved his hands, bracing them on the floor, moving instantly to obey Master's commands. But inside, Spencer reared his head once more. A small fire seemed to have lit inside of him. Master wanted him to defy him, did he? He wanted him to fight? Spencer shoved the boy down inside while his body finished rising from the ground. If Master wanted a fight, then that was what he was going to get. _My name is Spencer Reid. I am not Boy. I am Spencer_ he thought to himself. _And the hell if I'm going to go down without a fight!_

Years' worth of pain and anger were boiling inside of him. The strength that his friends had helped him find was growing. He was going to die here in this house, of that he was pretty certain. Not only was he going to die, but the camera had been left on for his friends to watch him die. He'd be damned if he was going to die cowering on his knees. For once, just once in his pathetic life, he was going to have the balls to stand up for himself.

The first fist caught him in the gut, almost knocking him over. Spencer tried to use what Master taught him to push the pain back as far as he could. He twisted his body, grabbing hold of Master's arm so he wouldn't lose his target, and pulled himself in close enough that he could slam a knee up. He'd been aiming for the groin, but it felt like he hit the stomach instead. Either worked. He heard Master's grunt of pain and surprise and felt satisfaction.

He didn't waste time waiting to see what would happen. Letting go of Master's arm, he swung his fist, trying to hit anywhere that he could. Any damage he could cause was worth it. His fist connected with something, with skin, and there was the satisfying sound of the punch making contact. But then fists were striking him, coming from nowhere, all the more painful for him not being able to see them coming. That didn't stop him from swinging, though. Hit after hit he struck, fighting like a mad thing. Everything that had been held inside was pouring out of him now. He didn't care what he struck, didn't care what the damage was. He didn't even realize that he was screaming as he did.

The world suddenly disappeared around him. He was falling, just barely able to stay conscious as his body and head struck the ground underneath him. Master was on top of him, the two having fallen together somehow. Spencer didn't care. He didn't feel the pain. Shrieking furiously, he attacked again, giving his tormentor no time to recover from the jolting fall. Neither even heard the footsteps echoing through the upstairs of the house. They didn't hear the voices calling out as they ran down the stairs or even as the basement door burst open. Caught up in their own battle, the two men rolled around the floor, each fighting for their life.

~~POV Switch~~

When the SUV pulled up in front of the house, their brakes squealed with the force of the stop. Four doors opened and the agents poured from the car. None of them said a word. They'd all put their vests on during the drive over. Only Aaron was strapping his down now. As a unit they moved, ignoring the cop cars that were pulling up behind them to offer backup. None of the local cops matter to them. The team was on a mission to rescue one of their own and no one was going to step in the way of that.

Aaron was the one who led the way to the front door. He took point, moving to the front door. Morgan was directly beside him, the two exchanging a silent message with their eyes before Morgan reached out and twisted the doorknob of the front door, silently swinging it open. Aaron darted in first, Morgan behind him and the others following. They cleared the living room, seeing nothing there, no threat coming at them.

Then they all heard it. A high pitched shriek echoed up from somewhere underneath their feet. Fear and anger gripped Morgan almost instantly. He knew that sound. He knew that shriek. That was Spencer.

When he moved toward the only obvious door to the basement, no one stepped in his way. Aaron moved behind him, allowing him to take point for this. Guns at the ready, the group paused outside the basement door, hearing the shrieking grow louder and louder. There was the painful sound of flesh connecting with flesh now that made bile burn the back of Morgan's throat. He pushed that back. There was no time for this now. Spencer was still alive. They had to save him.

He nodded at Aaron, who reached out and opened the basement door. Morgan shot in first, moving down the stairs with his gun trained on the room, the order to freeze already on his lips. It never came out, though. What he saw when he reached the bottom of the staircase froze him and everyone else.

Vincent and Spencer were on the floor, a mass of arms and legs, rolling and swinging and writhing. It was hard to see where one started and the other ended. To see Vincent beating on Spencer wasn't the surprise. Seeing Spencer swinging and kicking and fighting for all he was worth _was_. The kid looked like a wild thing, hitting and shrieking as he did. His voice echoed painfully around them, tearing at their hearts.

"I am not your boy!" He shrieked. They watched as one of Spencer's fists connected with Vincent's face. "I. Am. Spencer. Reid!" Each word was punctuated by another fist.

With a furious roar, Vincent rolled their bodies again, crashing them into a table that carried all of Vincent's tools on it. Whips and knives and various other items crashed around them. Fear, bright and hot, roared to life inside of Morgan. In a split second, he made a decision. "Cover me." He snapped out as he holstered his gun. He couldn't stand back and just watch this. There was no way. Moving forward, he headed straight to the pair, ready to dive in and separate them if need be. If he could just get Spencer off of Vincent, the others could take the open shot and this could be done.

But right as he got toward them, he saw Vincent's hand land on a knife on the floor. Morgan's blood ran cold and his world seemed to freeze for just one single second. Then he was moving faster, but not fast enough. The knife sank right into Spencer's abdomen just as Morgan got there. Rage boiled over Morgan.

Vincent paused, triumphant, and that was all the opening that Morgan needed. His foot connected with the side of Vincent's head and the monster's hands released from Spencer, who dropped sideways, cradling his stomach. But Vincent was quick. He didn't lie, stunned, as Morgan had hoped. Instead he reached once more for another knife. The sound of a gunshot filled the room and Morgan watched with intense satisfaction as Vincent snapped back to the ground, two bleeding wounds growing on his chest. A glance to the side showed JJ standing, her gun still trained on the man, a satisfied look on her face.

Everyone moved forward to deal with Vincent, which left Morgan free to do the one thing he needed to do. He moved around the bastard and straight toward Spencer.

The young man was lying on the ground, his body curled to the side and his hands over the knife. Morgan reached out to him, trying to touch his arms, but the instant skin touched skin, Spencer started to shriek and pull away.

"Spencer, Spencer!" Morgan cried. He pulled his hands back, not wanting to do anything to make him move more. There was blood everywhere, sliding from random cuts on his body, pouring from the wound on his stomach. "Spencer, sugar, it's me. It's Morgan. I'm here, baby. I'm right here and I'm not going to hurt you. No one's going to hurt you."

He watched Spencer's body lock down. Hair covered the young man's face, blocking it from Morgan's sight. But he heard the soft voice whisper "Morgan?"

"That's right, baby. That's right." Now Morgan moved his hands again, hesitantly reaching forward. When he touched Spencer's arm and his friend didn't react, Morgan scooted even closer. "Just hold on, baby. Paramedics should be here any time. Someone had to have called them. You just hold on for me, ok?"

One of Spencer's hands moved from his stomach, reaching toward Morgan. It made the older man ache to see the blood and bruises that marred those hands. One of the fingers looked bent wrong, as if it were broken. But Spencer sought his hand and gripped it despite the pain it must have caused to do so. "You found me." He whispered.

"Of course we did. Garcia traced his signal. This guy was an idiot; he didn't even hide well enough. You know baby girl, she's damn good at what she does. She found you for us and we came for you."

A soft whine of pain slid past Spencer's lips and he curled his body a little tighter. Morgan wanted to scream, to curse and rant and rave. Where the hell were the medics? At the same time that he thought that, he heard footsteps echoing upstairs and then over the staircase. He heard Aaron call out "Clear room for the medics!"

"Spencer, baby, the medics are here." Morgan brought his free hand up to smooth the hair back from Spencer's face. "Just hold on, they're here. You're so strong, baby. You're going to be fine. Just hang in there, ok? They'll fix you right up."

A little blood dribbled out of Spencer's mouth as he started to cough. The cough stopped right as a group of medics dropped down beside him. "I didn't let him win, Morgan." Spencer wheezed out. There was a small smile on his lips. "I fought back. I didn't let him win."

Tears built in Morgan's eyes, running down his cheeks in rivers. "I saw you, pretty boy. I'm so proud of you."

"Sir, we need you to step back now." One of the medics said. His hands were on Morgan's shoulders, trying to pull him up and back. The older man didn't want to let go of his friend. His love. Spencer didn't want to let go either. His grip tightened. "Morgan." He called over the noise. There was the sound of pain and fear in his voice. "I love you."

Morgan squeezed his hand back. "I love you too, baby boy. I love you too."

The fingers in Morgan's hand suddenly went lax. With horror he watched as Spencer's body suddenly seemed to droop into the ground. The people around him took advantage of that shock to pull him up and away from the young man that lay dying on the floor. Life didn't return to Morgan until he heard one of the medics say "He's lost consciousness but we've still got a pulse. Let's get him out of here, now!"

Morgan was grateful for the hands that were holding him up or he would have sagged back down to the floor. He'd thought, for one split second, that Spencer had left him. But he was still alive. Still holding on.

When the paramedics got him on a gurney and maneuvered him up the stairs, Morgan broke away from his friends to follow. There was no way he was going to hop in an SUV and wait to get to the hospital. He was going to ride with them, no matter what the hell they had to say to him about it. That determination must have shown clear on his face because, when they loaded Spencer in the ambulance and Morgan moved to follow, the medics only looked at him for a second before allowing him in. No one said anything to him as he took up a spot near Spencer's head. The doors to the back of the ambulance snapped shut.

Looking down at the face below him, Morgan felt his heart stutter. No. Sweet God, no. Moving a shaky hand, he traced his fingers over Spencer's eyes, ignoring everything the paramedics were doing to the rest of his friend's body. "I'd forgotten." Morgan whispered, even though he knew Spencer couldn't hear him. "Oh, baby, I forgot that part. I'm so sorry."

"Sir?" one of the medics said to him in a gentle voice.

Morgan didn't even look up. "The Unsub put superglue on his eyelids to keep them shut." He whispered to the medic. That was the only thing he said to them. With one hand resting on Spencer's cheek, Morgan bowed his head there in the back of the ambulance, covered in his best friend's blood, praying they would make it to the hospital in time.


	37. The Shining Sun

**Just FYI—I know that the medical things might not be perfect in here. I did the best I could with research I could, but the brain part I just winged because it fit the story, lol. So if it doesn't seem plausible, well, it's because it mostly is just out of my head. :D Hope you all don't mind and I hope it doesn't detract from the story. Now, read on to my ending of Time and please! R&R!**

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><p>Waiting was one of the hardest things for Morgan to do. It gave his mind too much time to think about everything that could possibly go wrong. It allowed him to remember the sound of the heart monitor in the ambulance suddenly going flat; how they'd rushed to bring him back. The sound as he finally came back to them and his heart started to beat once more. It allowed him to see the blood that looked like it was everywhere. To remember the way Spencer had looked lying on the floor of that horrible basement, the knife sticking out of his stomach.<p>

He'd flat lined once on the way to the hospital, and once more as they were bringing him in. Each time they'd brought him back, but it left Morgan terrified. Would it happen again while in surgery? Would they be able to bring him back if it did?

Three nurses had helped to separate Morgan from Spencer. The only reason they'd managed it was because Morgan knew his best friend, the man he loved, needed to go to surgery. There was nothing Morgan could do for him right now. So he'd gone with the nurses, following them as they'd taken him to a room where he could shower and change out of his bloody clothes and into a pair of scrubs, since he had no clothes with him. Then they'd led him to a private room and promised to bring the team back when they arrived.

Now he was pacing the waiting room, praying as hard as he could. That was how his friends found him when they rushed into private room. Instantly he was surrounded by the people who were the closest to him. Garcia came right over, wrapping her hand around his arm to both give and receive comfort. The others circled loosely in front of him, their eyes on his face.

Morgan brought a hand up to run it over his scalp. "He's still in surgery right now." He told them hoarsely. "He…they lost him twice before they even got him in the OR. Once in the ambulance and once when we arrived. But they brought him back both times. He's been back there since we arrived. They needed to repair whatever damage the knife caused and check the rest of him over. I don't know anything yet." He needed something, anything, to take away the image of Spencer bleeding. Of Spencer's heart stopping. "What happened at the house?"

"Vincent was gone by the time the paramedics got to him." Aaron said in a hard, cold voice. There was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. "They tried to revive him but there was no hope. He's being shipped to the morgue."

"Good." Morgan snapped out. Though he wished he could bring the man back, simply to beat him to death with his bare hands. A clean gunshot was too easy a death.

Apparently he wasn't the only one that thought that. He heard Emily furiously hiss "He got off too easy."

"The protection detail over Cindy has been removed, now that she's safe. The house is being processed, but there's no case. Everything was pretty obvious and pretty cut and dry." Aaron continued.

The doors opened once more and Morgan saw Will and Henry walk into the room. Everyone turned to look at them as JJ strode straight to her family. She reached out, taking Henry from Will's arms and pulling her son close. Her eyes lifted to Will's, shining slightly with unshed tears. "We got him." She said simply. Morgan assumed that Will must not have known the whole story yet, though he'd obviously been told that Spencer was at the hospital.

Dave clapped a hand on JJ's shoulder. "She got him, actually." He corrected. Turning his eyes to JJ, he smiled gently. "You did good, JJ. You did right."

From Morgan's left, he heard Emily softly say "Well." All eyes turned toward her, curious. She gave them a weak smile and repeated herself. "Well. She did well. Reid always corrects me if I say someone did good. He says we don't do good, we do well."

The tension in the room was broken for a brief moment with that little slice of humor. It eased them all enough for everyone to take a seat in the chairs against the walls. Even Morgan sat, though his eyes couldn't seem to leave the door. He needed to watch for the doctor, even knowing that it would be a while before anyone came out. Surgery always took a long time. Most likely they would be here for hours still. But he couldn't take his eyes off the door.

Garcia rubbed her hand up and down his arm to try and soothe him. "Why don't you settle back, sweetie? You look beyond beat." She whispered to him. He shook his head, eyes never leaving the door. "I want to be awake when the doctor comes." He told her.

"Derek, you know it's going to be a while yet. You need to be at your best for him afterwards and you won't be if you're about to drop from exhaustion. Come on, lay back. I'll wake you up the instant anyone comes in."

He was about to answer her but he heard Aaron as JJ and Will "How's Henry doing? Did he…did everything check out ok?" That drew not only Morgan's attention, but everyone else's. JJ shifted her son on her lap, smiling down at him. One of her hands came up to smooth back his hair as the little boy curled against her chest, his thumb coming up to rest in his mouth. "The doctor said he's perfectly healthy. His wrists are a little tender from being locked, but there should only be minimal bruising. Physically, he checks out great. Emotionally…" she trialed off for a moment, bending her head to kiss the top of her son's head and to gather her composure. "We're going to take him to see a child psychologist. I can't imagine what he heard or what he understands from it. But he hasn't sucked his thumb in a year and he's barely stopped since we got him back."

Aaron turned in his seat to better face the couple. "Children are surprisingly resilient." He told her reassuringly. "A psychologist would be a good idea to help him move past this. Thankfully, it sounds like he saw nothing, which should make the healing process easier for him. He wouldn't have understood most of what he was hearing."

"We owe Reid our son's life." Will said in a voice hoarse with emotion. His arm was around JJ, his other hand resting on Henry's back like he couldn't bear to be parted from either of them. "He saved him. JJ told me how he convinced this guy to let Henry go. How he sacrificed himself. He's an amazing guy."

"Henry's his Godson." Morgan said. His eyes were still trained on the door, but his quiet words filled the room. "To him, that says it all. But he would have done it no matter who the child was. He would have given up anything to make sure no child was hurt that way. It's a part of who he is."

Dave turned to look at Morgan. "He's going to make it, Morgan. Look at what he's survived so far. That man is far stronger than anyone in his life has ever given him credit for."

"How much can a person be expected to take, though?" Morgan replied dully. "How many times can you expect someone to keep getting up after getting trampled down? He was doing so well before this. He was talking to me about seeing a counselor and trying to get his life in order. He wanted to take his life back. What's this going to do to him, even if he makes it through the surgery? Is he still going to be Spencer? Or will this be the last straw?"

No one had an answer for him. The room fell quiet after that. Together, the group of friends sat, waiting and praying, hoping beyond hope that their friend would make it through this.

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><p>Six hours later, the occupants of the private waiting room had finally drifted off toward sleep. They'd been sleeping off and on for the past few hours, startling awake each time they heard a noise. Aaron had gone at one point to see if there had been any kind of update, but he was told that there was nothing new. So they all stretched out in their chairs, trying to get as much sleep as they could manage. Even Morgan had tried to sleep some. Will had taken Henry home, telling JJ to stay and call him when she knew anything. At some point in their wait, Ethan had showed up. Morgan was just grateful he didn't have to deal with the guy. He knew that Ethan was a friend, but at the moment he didn't think he could have been calm enough to talk to him. Luckily, Dave had handled that. Now Ethan sat beside Dave, trying to sleep and wait like the rest of them.<p>

The sound of the door opening jolted all of them back to the present moment. The mood in the room went from nervous and exhausted to alert in a split second. Morgan was on his feet before he'd even thought about moving.

The woman who walked in was the same woman that had treated Spencer for his gunshot wound, Morgan saw. That thought flittered through his mind briefly before all his concentration focused on her. He tried to read her face, but he could only see exhaustion at first.

He took a step toward her. "Dr. Tawny." He said hoarsely. "Please, how is he?"

She lifted compassionate eyes toward him. "He's stable right now." Was the first thing she said. The tension in the room instantly eased some. Morgan felt like he could breathe again. The 'right now' part was worrisome, but Morgan held on to the 'stable' part of things.

Dr. Tawny moved to take a seat, gesturing for them to sit down as well. "Sorry, but I've been on my feet for hours." She explained to them. "This is going to take a bit to tell. So, please, take a seat."

Once everyone was seated, Tawny leaned forward and rested her arms on her knees. Though she spoke to them all, her eyes moved toward Morgan. "I'm going to be as blunt as possible, so tell me if the information is too much, ok?" When they nodded, she continued. "We repaired the damage done from the stab wound. It damaged his spleen beyond repair, so we had to remove it. He lost quite a bit of blood. That, combined with the stress his body was under as well as what he was put through was enough to tax his heart. That was why it stopped the two times it did. We've given him some transfusions and his heart is beating fine now. The injury to his stomach should heal well, too. He'll be sore for a while, but I see him recovering fine from it with the proper care."

Morgan knew there was more. He said nothing when she paused, only waited for her to continue. His one hand was gripped tight by Garcia's and he felt Emily's hand come to rest on his back. He didn't pay attention to any of the others.

Sure enough, Tawny spoke again after a moment. "We repaired the damage to where his previous gunshot was torn back open. Luckily, the damage wasn't made worse. I don't see there being any lasting side effects once it's had time to heal. What worries us is what you told us, Agent Morgan, about the strangulation.

"Asphyxiation is a condition of severely deficient supply of oxygen to the body that arises from being unable to breathe normally, such as strangulation. Between the instances that this was done, as well as the times his heart gave out, Dr. Reid's brain was deprived of oxygen. We call this HIE. Hypoxic ischemic encephalopathy—HIE—is a condition that occurs when the entire brain is deprived of an adequate oxygen supply, but the deprivation isn't total. HIE is often a complication of cardiac arrest."

"Does that mean there's…brain damage?" Aaron's voice broke slightly on the words. All of them knew that it would be devastating to Spencer if he lost capabilities in his brain. That would almost be more traumatic for him than anything else that could happen.

Dr. Tawny turned to look at the unit chief. "We ran him through a few tests and I'm glad to say that there appears to be no serious damage done to his brain. We'll want to test him more once he's alert again."

"Again?" Dave interrupted.

The doctor nodded at him. "Yes. I'm sorry, but we've been out of surgery for a bit. I didn't come tell you because we were testing him still and when he woke, we wanted to check as much of his brain capability as possible before we came out to tell you anything."

Garcia's jaw dropped a little. "And he let you do that without someone there? Around strangers?"

"Well, yes, though it was obvious he was nervous. When we test him again, I would like it if you would be there, Agent Morgan. He seems most relaxed around you." She looked to him, waiting until he nodded before smiling. He tried to find it in him to be mad at her for making them wait so long but her logic seemed sound. She was a doctor more concerned with the patient than anything else and how could he complain when it was all in Spencer's best interest?"

"Now, from what we were able to see on our tests and in our conversation isn't that bad. Memory and mental capabilities are going to be normal from what we can see, but he is going to suffer a few speech problems. A mild stutter or he might have a hard time getting some words out. But otherwise his mental facilities should be fine and he can undergo speech therapy to help with his words, though it'll never be perfect. I would predict that, barring any further complications through the night and barring any infection, he should make a fully recovery from this. I dare say he'd even be fine to eventually return to his job without any physical complications."

No one bothered to correct her on him coming back to work. They had no idea what Spencer's mental capability was going to be or if he was even going to want to come back to work.

Now that all of this was out of the way, Morgan wanted only one thing. "Can I go see him?"

"We've got him in a private room right now." Tawny told them all. "He'd fallen back asleep, but he was stirring again a little when I left. He may be in and out of it for a while as the anesthesia wears off. The pain medication he's on may make him a little groggy as well. Please, keep in mind the experience he's been through and the problems I explained to you. His speech is a little hard at first and seems to be worse the more stressed he is, so try to keep him as calm as possible. I can let you in two at a time to see him, but I can't promise he'll stay awake through it all. His body needs rest."

The decision as to who was going first was no question; just like everyone knew that Morgan wouldn't be leaving. So he and JJ went in first to see their friend, both of them impatiently following the doctor to the room. When the door opened, Morgan had to hold back both his sigh of relief at seeing Spencer alive and the tears that wanted to fall at how beat up he looked.

There was something attached to his nose, running up to tuck behind his ears and come together underneath his chin. His hair hung loosely around his face, resting like a screen over the black eye he was sporting. His bottom lip looked like it was split. The wound on his arm had been re-bandaged so only the white bandage was visible, peeking out of the edge of his gown. His knuckles looked bruised and slightly torn except for one finger, which was splinted straight and wrapped. And all of that was just what was visible.

He or JJ must have made some sound because Spencer's eyes suddenly blinked open, looking straight to the door. Morgan saw the momentary disorientation there followed by recognition. Something like relief passed over the young man's face. That was all Morgan needed to move forward. He went to the side of the bed near the wall, hooking the chair with his foot and sitting down right by Spencer's bedside. He and Spencer stayed looking at one another the entire time.

Morgan brought a hand up, reaching out hesitantly for Spencer's hand. He wasn't sure how the younger man was going to react to being touched. How far back was this going to set his mental recovery? It had to have been the hardest thing for him to have to go back to the hands of the man who had tortured him for so long.

Because he was thinking those thoughts, it surprised him immensely when Spencer caught Morgan's hand with his, gripping as tight as he could for the moment. A relieved smile lit Morgan's face. "Hey there, pretty boy."

"H-Hey." The raspy croak made Morgan want to wince. Spencer's voice sounded so raw! But with everything that had happened, it was totally understandable. JJ did wince before she moved to grab a little cup that sat at his bedside, full of ice chips. She spooned up a little, offering it to him. "Hey, Spence." She said softly. When he took the ice chips from her, not even lifting his head off the bed, she smiled at him in a motherly sort of way. "You sure had us worried for you, honey."

"Hen..ry."

JJ's smile grew and her eyes became even warmer, though now they were misty with tears. "He's ok, Spence. He's ok because of you. You saved my baby." She gave him another spoonful of the ice chips. "I don't know how to repay you for what you did for him. But you have our eternal gratitude. Anything you need, anything at all, you don't be afraid to ask us. We'll never be able to pay you back for saving our baby for us."

For a brief second Spencer closed his eyes. "Was my f-fault h-h-he was th-th-there."

Neither one of them commented on the stutter nor the way the last word had seemed to almost stick in his mouth. Morgan just ran his thumb over Spencer's hand, still holding tightly to it. He kept quiet despite wanting to scold Spencer for saying something like that. JJ would handle this, he knew. Sure enough, she put one hand on her hip to give him a serious look as she scolded, looking just like any mother. "Spencer Reid, don't be ridiculous. Yes, that bastard took him to lure you out, but you had no way of knowing that he would. If you had, you would have had protection put on him. Are the rest of us to blame because we didn't think to protect him either?"

That had Spencer's eyes flying open. "No!" he exclaimed. "You d-didn't k-k-k…" He trailed off, gritting his teeth in obvious frustration at not being able to say the word he wanted.

JJ kept talking as if he hadn't even stumbled. "No, we didn't know, and neither did you, Spence. So don't you dare take that man's guilt on your shoulders. You're just going to have to deal with our gratitude whether you like it or not and that's final."

The gentle threat had Spencer's face relaxing. JJ leaned forward now, smoothing his hair back from his face so she could kiss his forehead. "I'm going to let the others in now. But I'll be back later when they let visitors back in, ok sweetie? You just rest and get well. We're so glad to have you home."

"Th-Thanks, JJ."

The smiling mother gave him one last kiss on his forehead before exiting the room. Spencer and Morgan said nothing to one another. For the moment, they didn't need to say anything. Morgan was content to sit quietly as long as Spencer wanted. Just being here with him, touching him, was enough to ease the ache that had been in his heart. Here he knew Spencer was ok. If anything happened, he would know; he wouldn't have to wait and find out later. He would be able to watch the young man and take care of him. Protect him, the way he should have before.

Dave was the next one to come in. He walked right up to Spencer's bedside, staying back just enough to leave the young man his personal space. "Hey there, kiddo. You're looking better than the last time I saw you."

"Th-Thanks." Spencer answered softly. There was no tensing to his body to suggest that he was uncomfortable or bothered by having Dave in the room, which Morgan took as a good sign.

Dave hooked his hands in his pockets, tipping his head to look at his friend. "Don't give the nurses here too much hell while you're here. You just concentrate on healing, you hear me? We'll all come back to visit you as often as they let us in here. Hopefully they won't get sick of us before it's all said and done." He seemed to hesitate for just a split second before he worked up his courage and said "I'm damn proud of you, Reid. What you did was stupid and dangerous and you could have been killed. But it was the right thing to do and I'm proud of you for doing it."

That left Spencer a little speechless, but his eyes seemed to glow with the smile that didn't quite reach his lips.

Next to come in was Aaron, with Emily sneaking in with him. When Morgan saw the two of them together, he raised a single eyebrow. Emily just smiled at him. "Rossi said he was looking tired and I didn't want to miss out, so I snuck in with Hotch." She explained impishly. Then she walked straight to Spencer's bedside. Since that hand was the one with the splint, she couldn't hold his hand, but she stroked her fingers over his arm. "You sure terrified me, Reid." She told him honestly. Behind her, Aaron nodded. "I think it's safe to say you scared us all."

Emily reached into her pocket, pulling something small out. She held it for just a second before showing it to him. In her palm sat a little pin in the shape of a sun. This time, Spencer's smile actually came to his lips, curving them ever so slightly. She reached out and worked the pin into the chest of his gown, gently avoiding touching his skin as she did. "I saw this at the gift shop when I went to get coffee and I had to get it." She told him in a voice softer and gentler than they were used to hearing from Emily. "It's my promise to you that I won't ever forget the sun's there, no matter how cold it gets around me. And it's to remind you that it's there for you too, even when everything seems hard and dark and cold."

Lifting his injured hand, Spencer carefully laid it over hers, letting the two rest against his chest for a moment. "All of-f-f you…are my su-sun. You w-w-warm me…i-ins-s-side."

"You warm us too, Reid." Aaron said gently. There was one of his rare smiles on his face, making him look almost paternal. "You're a central point to our team. Without you, we flounder. You help keep us together. You're a part of our family and your family is very proud of you right now."

Morgan could see the tears that built in Spencer's eyes. One single one slid down his cheek. But his smile was one of the biggest and truest that he'd worn since he'd come back to them.

The last two to come in were Garcia and Ethan. True to form, Garcia bustled right on over with none of the hesitation or caution the others showed. She was her usually self, fussing over his blankets, offering him more ice chips, and smiling all the while the tears rolled down her cheeks. But Ethan stood at the foot of the bed, unsure and hesitant. When Garcia had pet and hug Spencer enough, she stepped back to smile at him. "I'm sure glad to see you alive, sweet boy. But you ever scare me like that again and you and I are going a few rounds, you hear me?"

"Y-Yes ma'am." He teased her.

Leaning in, she kissed his cheek. "We'll talk more tomorrow. You look beyond tired." She rose, throwing a look to Morgan. "Take care of him."

"You better believe it, baby girl." It was the first thing Morgan had said since coming in the room.

Then she was gone and only Ethan was left standing there, looking beyond uncomfortable. He had his hands on the foot of the hospital bed, shuffling them nervously around. "I'm um, I'm glad you're ok, Spencer." He finally said.

The hand in Morgan's gripped a little tighter. He looked at Spencer's face and could see that he was trying to draw strength to himself as well as figure out what he wanted to say. "I'm s-s-sorry, Ethan." The words were slow, but the stutter wasn't as strong. "I didn't f-forget y-you on p-p-purpose."

Ethan looked like he wasn't sure how to take that statement. But Morgan could see it on his best friend's face. He couldn't help but smile. Spencer remembered Ethan! His thoughts were confirmed a moment later. "You w-were alw-ways a g-good friend." Spencer said slowly. "Th-Thank you f-f-for s-sticking around u-until I r-r-r-r…" Trailing off, Spencer gritted his teeth once more and rolled his eyes up to stare at the ceiling. Morgan leaned in, bringing a hand up to smooth over Spencer's forehead. "Remembered." He supplied quietly.

The younger man swallowed and opened his eyes again, looking to Morgan. Everything on his face was showing just how tired he was becoming. It had to have been visible to Ethan too, because the other man moved away from the foot of the bed and towards the side. "Hey, Spencer, listen to me, man. It's all good. The fact that you remember now, that's good enough for me. We can talk about the rest of it later, ok? Right now you look like you need some sleep, man. I can just come back tomorrow if you want."

"P-Please."

"All right. You rest. I'll see you tomorrow."

And then they were alone.

Now was the moment Morgan had waited for the most. Not because there was anything he wanted to say, or anything he needed to here. No, he simply wanted to be alone with Spencer. To sit here and watch him and touch him and keep reminding himself that Spencer was alive. That he was going to be ok. Morgan scooted his chair forward, moving his hands enough to drop down the edge on the bed. Then he rested his arms on the bed, taking Spencer's hand once more. A thousand words passed through Morgan's mind and yet none of them seemed necessary at the moment. Spencer was there. He was alive. That was enough.

Apparently it wasn't enough for Spencer. Even looking as tired as he did, he rolled his head toward the side so that he could look at Morgan's face. "I'm s-s-s-sorry I s-s-scared y-you."

"You did what you had to, sugar. Yeah, I was scared. I was terrified. But you're back now. You're back here with me." Leaning in, Morgan lifted Spencer's hand—making sure to be careful of the IV—and kissed the bruised knuckles. "I was so afraid you'd die before I got the chance to tell you that I love you too, Spencer Reid, with everything I am. I think I have for a long, long time." He lifted his eyes so that they were locked with Spencer's. There he saw love mixed with surprise and…was that hope?

For a single, long moment they stared at one another. Joy was slowly unfurling inside of Spencer, shining out his eyes. "I'm b-b-broken." He said slowly. Almost as if he was trying to brace himself for Morgan's reaction. The older man just smiled at him. "Then we'll put you back together." He countered. His smile was gentle and full of love, the sensation filling him as he let himself truly feel everything. "Spencer, for as long as you want me with you, I'm here. Until the day you tell me to get the hell out, well, I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to be by your side, helping you, taking care of you, loving you, protecting you. And I'm never going to ask you for anything you aren't able to give me. I'm not telling you I love you to pressure you. I'm telling you because I want you to know. What happens from there, that's up to you."

This time the joy was bright in Spencer's face. He didn't hold back, but beamed down at Morgan with a smile more beautiful than any that Morgan had ever seen. "I l-l-love y-you. D-Don't ever l-leave."

Morgan crossed his arms on the bed and rested his head on them, his face turned to smile at Spencer. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here, sugar."

Ever so carefully Spencer lifted his hand, touching his fingers to Morgan's cheek, stroking them down his neck, finally stopping to rest them on his arm. The fight with staying awake was slowly being lost. Morgan watched as Spencer's eyes slowly slipped shut, despite his best efforts to fight and keep them open. After a moment, Morgan couldn't take it. "Go to sleep, Spencer. I'll be here when you wake up, sugar, I promise you. I'm not going anywhere. I'm here and you're safe. Just go to sleep."

The grateful look Spencer gave him told him that he'd been right. Spencer finally closed his eyes, letting the medication take him back under. As he drifted off to sleep, Morgan watched him, content to simply sit and look at his face.

In two years, Spencer had been through hell. He'd been kidnapped, held captive, rescued, started to recover, had his Godson kidnapped and ended up sacrificing himself. So many things that, on their own, would be enough to break a person down. Yet Spencer was still here, still alive, still fighting. He'd even _smiled_. There was no one that Morgan knew that had the strength of spirit like Spencer did. Tipping his head a little, he kissed Spencer's knuckles once more. The road to recovery was going to be a long one. There would be obstacles in the way; long nights, hard days. Times where the pain would be overwhelming. But, looking at the sleeping face of his own personal angel, Morgan knew they would make it. Together, they could do anything.

Smiling, he drifted to sleep at the bedside of his love.

* * *

><p><strong>So, what do you think? Like it? Hate it? Don't really care? Let me know! This is the end of the story Time! Wow, I can't believe it's done. I can't believe it's actually over. Or, is it really? LoL. I've sat and thought about writing a sequel, just to show Spencer's healing, maybe him eventually going back to work. It wouldn't be the whumpage that Spencer went through in this story, though nightmares and flashbacks would be a part of it. It would just be a straight recovery story. Maybe starting six months or a year from the end of this story. Be sure to tell me what you want :) Anyways, thank you to all of you for sticking with me through this all. You guys are the absolute best! For this being my first story on I can't believe how well it did. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Now, I'm going to go work on Undercover, lol, and maybe a new story soon :D<strong>


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